


August

by NowImYourDaisy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Post-War, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowImYourDaisy/pseuds/NowImYourDaisy
Summary: August sipped away like a bottle of wine... Ginny Weasley finds a sweet, summer love in the month before she leaves for school her seventh year. Prequel story to Nothing Like a Holiday Spell.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was meant to be a one-shot, but it's somehow turning into more. It takes place in the same universe as my story, Nothing Like a Holiday Spell, and will tell the story of Harry and Ginny's August after the war.

Ginny sat on the beach, watching the tide ebb back and forth, waves crashing against the shore. Seawater teased her toes—cold against her pale skin.

She had been with her brothers, Harry, and Hermione at shell cottage for a week now, and she had made it her nightly routine to come out to the shore as the sun set after suppers. Something about the tide soothed her fears and anxieties.

Ginny looked up at the colours of the sunset, admiring the pinks and purples and the way they intermingled with the oranges and reds. There had been days when she had wondered if she would ever enjoy another sunset, and this was proof that she had made it. Ginny Weasley had survived the war against Lord Voldemort.

She had come out of it a little worse for the wear, but here she was. Not everyone she loved had made it—her brother Fred, for one. Her friends Tonks, Demelza, and Colin had not, either.

The funerals had ended, finally, for everyone they had lost, and Ginny's brother Bill had promptly whisked her, George, Ron, and his friends away to his beachfront cottage to help center them, as he had called it. Ginny would be spending the next month until school began here, and then she and Hermione would travel back to Hogwarts.

Ginny didn't want to go back to school after the things she had seen there, but she knew that it must be done. She needed to finish her last year and sit her NEWTs. She was almost sure there were remedial studies for everyone who had been there the year before, as well.

She couldn't picture the castle at the moment—the thought of all its dark corners turned her insides cold and made her go all still.

Ginny brought herself back to the present and back to the waves in front of her, taking in the feeling of the sand against her bare feet. Whenever she got lost in the memories, she found something in the present to bring her back, and out.

She heard a rustling behind her and turned around, hair whirling about behind her, one piece finding its way in front of her eyes. She brushed the red, coppery strand away quickly, not wanting her vision to be obstructed if she needed to be on defence.

Luckily, it was only Harry heading towards her. He was shuffling through the sand, feet pushing several grains of sand out in front of him with each step.

She turned back towards the sea, listening to the whooshing of the waves.

Harry didn't say anything as he came to sit down beside her. They sat together in silence for some time as the sun sank beneath the horizon. The August air was growing chillier now, next to the sea, and Ginny looked up at the stars, wondering if she could find Gemini. She searched and searched but couldn't find it.

"Do you see Gemini anywhere?" she finally asked Harry.

Harry looked startled for a moment as he glanced at her, but then his eyes shone with understanding and he gazed upwards, searching. "There it is," he said, pointing. Ginny couldn't find what he was looking at, and Harry must have been able to tell, because he grabbed her hand gently and pointed with it so she could follow his gaze.

Ah, there it was—the twins' constellation. She wondered if Fred was out there somewhere, watching them all.

She looked back at Harry and couldn't find the words to thank him. He had come out to sit with her once or twice in the last week and she had found that she liked his quiet company. Harry was already looking at her, eyes intense. A feeling of comfort surged within Ginny and she wanted to hug him. She held herself back, though, and instead held her hand out to him and she slowly stood up, feet sinking into the soft, cold sand beneath her.

Harry took her hand and heaved himself up, barely using Ginny at all for leverage. Neither one let go of the other as they climbed their way back to Shell Cottage, Ginny taking more comfort from the way his skin felt against hers.

Harry understood. But how could he not? He had paid the ultimate price for them all and had still lost just as many loved ones as she had.

They only let go of one another as Harry pushed the door open into the kitchen. Fleur was sitting at the table with Hermione, each witch holding a steaming mug in her hands. Ginny grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and poured herself a mug of tea, as well. Hermione passed her a bottle of firewhiskey and nodded at her.

Ginny poured some of that, too, and looked invitingly at Harry. He shook his head and waved discreetly as he left the room—Ginny assumed in search of Ron.

She took a seat next to Fleur and took a sip, enjoying the burn as it made its way down her throat.

**_-August-_ **

The next morning found Ginny cold in her bed. Who'd have known that the coast would be so cold in the mornings? She wondered as she wiggled her toes inside her quilt. She poked her head out from beneath the quilt and saw that Hermione's bed was already empty and made.

Trust Hermione to be up and about so early on a Saturday morning, Ginny thought as she laid there silently for a moment.

Finally, Ginny rose from the bed, the smell of a good fry-up luring her down the stairs. She tied her hair up into a ponytail as she walked into the kitchen.

Bill stood at the stove, spatula in hand. "Morning, Firefly," he greeted, grinning.

"Good morning," Ginny smiled. She'd never tell anyone, but Bill had always been her favourite brother. She felt guilt about it now, when she thought of Fred, but Bill had always treated her as an equal, whereas her other brothers had treated her as if she were either always underfoot or some plaything. "Where's everyone else?" She asked.

"They're either out on the porch with the paper, or getting ready in their rooms. We're going to have a beach day today."

Ginny's face broke into a large, beaming smile. She'd been visiting the beach every night, but had been dying to get a swim in, and maybe some sun on her skin. She knew she'd probably burn or freckle, but loved the way it felt against her face.

"Right on," she cheered.

Bill nodded in agreement. "I agreed to make breakfast if Fleur cleans it and you lot make supper."

"That sounds doable," Ginny told him agreeably. "Shall I get ready now? How much time 'til breakfast is ready?"

"You've got about ten minutes."

Ginny went back upstairs and brushed her teeth and put on her swimming costume and then a sundress on top of it. She glanced at the clock on the wall—it had been four minutes. Not a bad record at all.

She headed back down the stairs, knocking into Harry as she bounded down. His hands steadied her as she nearly toppled backwards. "Hullo, Ginny," he greeted.

"Morning, Harry."

She looked at him and saw he was already in his swimming costume, with a t-shirt on top and a pair of trainers. "Hope those are waterproof," she told him jauntily.

Harry grinned as he glanced down at the trainers. "Afraid not. Bill sent me up to grab a pair of flip-flops from his closet."

She stared at him, unsure what to say, a blush rising slightly on her face. "Well, er, good luck, then," she finally replied.

Harry chuckled. "Thanks, Gin. See you down at breakfast."

Ginny nodded dumbly, cursing silently at herself as she made her way to the breakfast table where Bill was setting a large plate of bacon and a bowl of baked beans. Her stomach rumbled hungrily.

George was already at the table, freckled face pale and wan. Ginny took a seat next to her brother and said, "Good morning, Georgie."

He smiled at her half-heartedly, and Ginny wished he didn't ache so. She wondered what it was like to suddenly be alone after being part of a matched set all his life. She couldn't imagine, or understand, what pain George must be feeling.

"Tea?" She asked.

He nodded without saying a word. She poured it into the cup set in front of him and plonked in three sugar cubes. "Thank you," he told her quietly.

Ginny patted his hand and watched as Hermione and Ron sat down next to each other across from her. She could tell by their back and forth secretive smiles that they had just been up to something privately before coming down. There was a faint flush on Hermione's cheeks, and Ginny finally understood why Hermione had been up and gone so early. She could almost swear that they were even playing footsie beneath the table.

She decided not to call them out on it—this time. She'd save her moment for when it would be more useful leverage.

Fleur floated into the room, a gauzy dress covering her swim costume, a pale pink strap peeking out from beneath the collar and tying around her tanned neck. "Salut!" She greeted everyone.

"Bonjour," Ginny said back, mustering up as much cheer as she could. She had to admit the whole lot of them had been rather short of cheer as of late, and as much as she needed to mourn, Ginny also wanted to begin to cherish her life.

Fleur's answering smile was disarming, and Ginny had to blink. _Damn that Veela charm_ , Ginny thought.

She heard Harry coming by the sound of his borrowed flip-flops slapping comically against the floor as he ambled his way to the breakfast table. Bill handed Harry a stack of dark blue plates with animated stars to take to the table with him. Harry took one and passed them to Ron as he took a seat next to his best mate.

"Did you hear about the Cannons?" Harry asked Ron. Ron's ears turned bright red as he tore his gaze away from Hermione.

"What about them?" Ron asked.

"They're being rebranded."

"You're having me on!"

Harry shook his head. "No, the owner sold them and they're moving and being renamed as the Nottingham Nifflers."

Ron looked at Harry's face, and then at George, then Ginny. "Fuck off!" Ron grinned. "Dorkins would never allow it!"

Harry's face split into a shit-eating grin. "You're right mate; I am having you on. It was too quiet in here."

Ron erupted into chatter that Ginny promptly ignored as she dug into her beans. She knew what Harry had done—he had never minded the quiet. She glanced at George, who had a faint smile on his face. _There he is,_ she thought.

She caught Bill's eye and he raised his eyebrows at her as he took a bite of bacon.

Ron was still going on about the Cannon's latest statistics as she felt a foot tentatively reach hers and caress it. Ginny froze, mid-bite, and glanced down at the foot touching hers. It was a leather-flat clad foot. It pulled away quickly, and as Ginny looked back up, she noticed Hermione blushing darkly as she took a furtive gulp of tea.

Hermione swallowed and then spluttered, tea spraying out her mouth. Fleur patted her on the back and Hermione's blush deepened.

"So, what did you get up to this morning, Ron?" Ginny asked.

Hermione coughed again. Ron stopped mid-rant and stared at Ginny, ears reddening for the second time that morning. George nudged his elbow against hers and caught her eye.

"Nothing exciting?" She asked.

Ron glared at her. "Come on, Ronniekins," George finally piped up. "There's nothing to be ashamed about. It's not like Mum's here to protect your virtue."

"If he even has any virtue left," Ginny joked.

Bill chuckled from across the table and Fleur was glancing about, a faint smile at her lips, looking as though she wasn't sure it would be appropriate for her to laugh along with her brothers and sister-in-law.

"That's it," Ron said, grabbing his plate as he stood up. "I'm taking my breakfast and eating in peace outside."

"Can't take the heat?" Ginny called after him as he opened the door to the porch.

He gave her the one-finger salute as the door slammed behind him. George burst into laughter for the first time in months, and Bill, Fleur, Harry, and Ginny soon followed.

Hermione's lips were twitching as she stood up. "Thank you, thank you all," she said as she grabbed her tea and a slice of toast and followed Ron.

"Oh, Hermione!" George crowed.

Hermione looked up and rolled her eyes, looking fond as she opened the door. Ginny heard Ron shout out, "Shove off!" From the porch, his voice cut off by Hermione closing the door behind her.

They all continued to laugh for another few moments before they resumed eating. Tears were leaking out of Ginny's eyes as she took a sip of tea. "Oh, my," she said, out of breath. "I can't remember the last time I had a laugh."

"Me neither," Harry agreed. "I think it's been a while."

"I'm glad those two finally stopped dancing around each other," Bill said. "The tension between them last year was ridiculous!"

"To be fair, we were all concerned with other things," Harry defended his friends.

"Like when Ron was concerned with Lavender?" Ginny asked.

"That was a… special case."

Ginny snorted. "Sure, and I've got a niffler."

Ginny took her last bite of egg and stood up. "We heading to the beach when everyone is done?"

"Yeah," Bill replied. "Once Ron is done sulking, I imagine."

"With 'Ermione's 'elp, 'e will get over it soon," said Fleur.

"Yes, her 'help,'" Bill agreed with his wife.

Ginny began to rinse her plate, watching as the stars floated about in circles and other strange patterns. Harry joined her at the sink. "I can get that, Gin."

"Thanks, but I've got it," she smiled, her ponytail flipping forwards into her face and hitting her in the forehead. She righted her head and said, "Thank you, though, Harry. Really."

"No problem," he answered. "Why don't we head out to the beach and watch the waves before everyone else arrives?"

Ginny looked away from the dishes she had begun to wash automatically, more out of habit than anything else, and gave Harry a scrutinizing look. She couldn't find any answers from his face to her unvoiced questions.

"Sure," she finally agreed. "Let's grab some towels and an umbrella."

"I'll do that while you finish those last few dishes," Harry said, already flip-flopping away and up the stairs to the second-floor linen closet. Ginny just shook her head and smiled wordlessly as she picked up a final mixing bowl and scrubbed at it before rinsing it and placing it on the drying rack.

Ginny readjusted her ponytail and leaned against her counter, waiting for Harry to return. She could hear his flip-flops (or, rather, she supposed, Bill's flip-flops) distantly, so she knew he would be down soon.

Harry appeared at the foot of the stairs and they began to walk together down the beach. "What are you lot up to?" Ron asked as they passed.

"None of your business," Ginny told him.

"I'll make it my business," Ron muttered.

"Ron," Hermione chastised.

"If you can't tell, we're going down to the beach," Ginny gestured to the umbrella and towels in Harry's hands.

"But it's still early!"

"We don't mind sitting out for a bit," Harry shrugged at his mate. "Plus, I'm sure Bill and Fleur wouldn't mind an hour or two of alone time."

Ron's face reddened at the implication. "You think?"

"Well, none of us have really left the house since we got here," Harry said. "They're used to having it to themselves."

Ginny nodded, though the thought hadn't occurred to her.

"Well we'll be there soon, then," Ron told them. "Hermione and I have to pack our bags."

Harry and Ginny continued walking, and Ginny muttered, "They act like it's a day-trip away from the house."

Harry chuckled. "Hermione probably has some books she wants to pack. And she's always prepared for anything that might happen, anymore."

The thought led to dark paths in Ginny's mind, so she tried to cast it aside. "That does sound like her," Ginny agreed, instead.

They continued to walk down the increasingly steep incline, sand slipping out from under Ginny's feet as she engaged her leg muscles in stabilization.

"Thanks for what you did at breakfast," Ginny finally said after several quiet moments.

Harry turned back to look up at her, looking through his lashes. "I'm not sure what you mean," he answered.

Ginny raised an eyebrow and said, "Sure you don't. I know you like to pretend to not notice things, but you know how to make things better with my brothers."

Harry smiled lightly and shrugged, holding a hand out to her to help her down past a particularly steep section, where there was also some loose gravel. Normally, Ginny would refuse the help, but something within her wanted Harry to want to help her, so she took his hand and gripped onto it.

His skin was softer than expected, she thought as her foot slipped from under her. Thank Merlin she'd taken his hand, she decided, as Harry pulled her upright. "That's the second time today you've kept me from falling," Ginny commented.

"I've been told I have a saving people thing," Harry replied, chuckling.

"I won't comment either way," Ginny giggled as they finally made it down to the beach. The salt air was even stronger right next to the sea, and Ginny immediately felt at ease. She'd been able to hear the waves and see them as they'd been climbing down, but it was nothing near the same as being able to touch the surf.

She felt as if she were being pulled toward the sea, standing just where the tide would roll in and gently cover her feet with cold water. Ginny closed her eyes and took everything in for a moment before turning back towards Harry.

He was wrestling with the beach umbrella, and Ginny watched him struggle with growing mirth. She grabbed their towels and laid them out beneath where the umbrella would be when Harry won his battle.

Finally, Harry beat the umbrella into submission, and Ginny commented, "Is there no spell for that?"

Harry cursed and Ginny laughed again. "I'm sure we could ask Hermione, whenever she and Ron are done canoodling."

"Is that even a word?" Harry asked.

"I'm pretty sure it is," Ginny answered. "I suppose that's another question for Hermione. We've probably joked too much about her sex life todag for her to take the question seriously."

Harry nodded in agreement and laid back on his towel. Ginny followed suit, thoughts miles away. Sometimes when it was just her and Harry, she didn't feel the need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. It was one of the things she enjoyed about his presence.

The quiet was broken by Ron and Hermione discussing something quite loudly as they made their way down the sandy slope. Hermione was saying something about discretion, and Ron was mimicking her.

"Good Merlin," Harry muttered.

"It's a wonder they get on at all," Ginny said. "I'm not sure how she puts up with that prat."

"Love," Harry said dryly.

Ginny chuckled. "I'll have a glass or two of whatever she's had," she joked. "Patience of a saint."

"You're telling me. I still don't know how she didn't throttle us when we were on the run."

Ginny's thoughts again turned back to the year before, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been out in the world, and she had been at Hogwarts. She didn't want to go back. She wanted to stay right here on this beach, away from the memories of smoke, singed skin, and the crumbling castle.

"Hey, you alright?" Harry asked, bringing her back to the present. She counted for a few moments and then focused on the sound of the waves and then Ron and Hermione's bickering.

"I am, thanks."

She needed to stop sliding into her memories, but there were a lot of small things that would unexpectedly remind her of something she'd rather forget—like walking the dark corridors and being caught alone.

 _One,_ she thought, taking a deep breath in. _Two_ , she continued to hold the breath. _Three_ , she exhaled slowly and looked at Harry, whose eyes were already on her. "I really am fine," she told him.

And she was—now.

"All I'm saying, Ron, is that it would be nice if your family didn't know everything that happens between us," Hermione was whispering rather loudly.

"They can't help it when we're all in the same small cottage," Ron argued back, not bothering to lower his voice.

"My brother's right for once, Hermione," Ginny told the older girl. "It's hard not to notice when you look at each other and blush… or when somebody's foot accidentally plays footsie with mine."

Harry chuckled wordlessly from beside her.

"You see?" Ron asked.

Hermione huffed. "I suppose we just won't do anything for the rest of the trip then," she said.

Ron groaned. "'Mione!"

She grinned at her boyfriend mischievously. "That'll save the both of us a lot of trouble."

"She's absolutely mental, mate," Ron told Harry too loudly as he set their large beach bag next to him and extracted their umbrella.

"Bad move," Harry warned as Hermione said, "Excuse me?"

"I think that's my cue to take a walk," Ginny muttered.

Harry nodded in agreement and said, "I'll come with you."

Ginny glanced at her brother and his girlfriend and shook her head. "He never learns," she said.

"I think he gets off on taunting her," Harry told her. "It might be foreplay."

She pretended to gag. "Nasty. I can think of much nicer ways to get turned on." She froze for a moment after realizing what she'd said. As she turned to look at Harry, he was looking anywhere but her, his tanned face a dark red hue.

Their walk didn't last long, as it became filled with a somewhat awkward silence after her comment. Ginny was intensely aware of Harry next to her, and her thoughts were drifting back to those few weeks they had dated the spring before her sixth year, when they had spent a good amount of time kissing and caressing one another. She could vividly remember the way Harry's hands had felt on her bum, and how his skin had felt against hers as his hands had made their way up her shirt.

They were equally red when they returned to their umbrella, where Hermione and Ron were lying, looking like they had made up quite nicely.

"Ginny, your skin is already turning red. Do you need a sunscreen charm?" Hermione asked.

Ginny didn't bother to tell Hermione that it wasn't the sun that had caused her cheeks to gain colour, but did agree to the sunscreen charm. She wouldn't be seventeen for another few days, so she couldn't legally use magic still.

Merlin-forbid, she thought, that she used magic outside of school before she was seventeen, but she could fight in a war and deal with Death Eater teachers.

She tried to ignore the burning sensation that Harry's gaze caused within her.

"Want to play a game?" Ron asked.

"Do you have something in mind?" Harry asked.

"That game Muggles play in the water," explained Ron. "Where the girls sit on our shoulders."

"You just want Hermione's legs wrapped around you," Ginny told her brother.

He blushed faintly but grinned, nonetheless. "I think it would be fun! George was telling me about it. You girls will try to knock each other off our shoulders."

"You're on," Ginny agreed, her competitive side getting the best of her. "We should make a bet on which of us will win," she smirked.

"Deal," Ron agreed.

Harry and Hermione shared looks of trepidation.

"If we win," said Ginny, "you and Hermione will have do all our laundry for a week, without magic—and you two can't argue that whole week, either."

"Alright, and if we win, you and Harry will have to do our laundry for a week _and_ carry Hermione's books."

"Hey now—" Harry began, but Ginny interrupted and said, "Deal!"

He shot her a look and she grinned cheekily. "We've got this, Potter. Don't you worry your pretty little mind."

Harry opened his mouth and closed it wordlessly, choking sounds coming out.

"We've got to wait until Bill, Fleur, and George are here to referee," Hermione told them all. They agreed heartily, as Ginny knew that Ron would cheat, and Ron knew that Ginny was a shameless dirty player.

Harry and Hermione were sharing worried looks again as Ginny and Ron traded barbs, smack-talking each other.

"Do you think this is what it was like growing up at the Burrow?" Ginny heard Harry ask Hermione.

"Probably so."

A few minutes later, the older Weasleys arrived and Ron and Ginny filled them in on the bet.

"I think Bill should referee," Ginny told them all. "He's fair and honest."

Ron nodded in agreement and motioned for Hermione to follow him out into the waves.

"Come on, Harry," Ginny ordered.

Harry listened without arguing and knelt down in the surf to allow Ginny to climb on top of him.

Ginny's thoughts turned more explicit as she settled herself on Harry's shoulders, legs wrapping around his torso and Harry grabbing onto her thighs to secure her. Indecent thoughts filled her mind for a moment before she forced them away and turned her mind to the task at hand—pulverizing her brother and his girlfriend in this game.

"What's this game called again?" Ginny asked.

"Chicken," Hermione informed them.

 _Weird name,_ she thought as a chilly wave crashed into them.

"You're in for it, Ron," Ginny said, grinning evilly. Ron looked scared for a moment, Ginny realized in satisfaction, before he hid it behind a mask of determination.

"Ready," Bill called from a few feet away on the beach. "Get set! Go!"

Ron charged them first, Hermione looking like she was holding on for dear life. Ginny put her hands out in front of her, ready to push Hermione away. Hermione ended up ducking Ginny's hands, which threw the two momentarily off-balance.

"Go!" Ginny told Harry, giving him a gentle kick with her ankles like she would a horse. Harry charged Ron and Hermione, and Ginny aimed to knock their balance even more.

"Oh, no, you don't," Ron shouted, swinging Hermione toward them. Hermione's arms made contact with Ginny's and the girls struggled to overpower each other.

Ginny tightened her thighs around Harry more to stabilize herself, tightening her core as well, to keep herself upright. She tried not to think about how good Harry's hands felt on her thighs as she leaned forward slightly to push Hermione backward.

Ron charged again as a wave moved in and hit them all, wetting Ginny's hair. "Gah!" Ron shouted, stopping for a moment. Ginny chose that moment to take them unaware, grabbing hold of Hermione's shoulders and pushing her off Ron's shoulders.

"Foul!" Ron shouted as Hermione's body hit the water, splashing them all.

"That was completely fair!" Ginny argued.

Hermione resurfaced, spluttering and coughing out water.

"You good?" Harry asked her. Hermione nodded, still coughing, hair completely wet and longer than Ginny had ever realized.

"Are you going to help your girlfriend?" Ginny asked her brother.

Ron glanced over at Hermione, dripping wet behind him. "Hmm… nah," he said, turning towards her and pushing her into the water again.

"Damn, that's cold," Ginny commented, grinning.

Harry was grinning too, she saw as she looked down. "You know what else is cold?" Harry asked.

"What's that?"

"This," he bucked up and let go of Ginny, sending her flying into the water. She was submerged, hair flowing behind her like little red waves. She pushed upwards to surface, taking a breath in as soon as she had oxygen again.

"You git!" She called as Harry began to run away from her. He wasn't making good progress, as his legs were submerged in the sea, but neither was she. Ginny gave up and swam towards him, letting the tide take her back and then forwards quickly toward Harry.

He ducked into the water when he saw Ginny coming. She cursed and tried to feel for him underneath the surface, unable to find him. He resurfaced more quickly than she had expected right at the beach.

She swam harder and he took off running and laughing. Ginny finally made it to shore as well and ran after Harry, feet digging into the warm sand as she chased him.

Ginny was laughing too, as she tripped into Harry and knocked him over, landing on top of him. "You're a prat," she told him, still giggling.

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked. "What are you gonna do about it?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Ginny couldn't help glancing at his lips for a moment, and then up at his eyes. His eyes met hers, and for a small, fleeting moment, she was drawn in, until she heard Ron yelling at them.

Pulling away from Harry, she rolled off of him and onto the sand, basking in its warmth. She knew she'd be covered in it when she got up, but she didn't mind. She snuck a glance at him and found that Harry was still looking at her.

She ignored the heated feeling within her and maneuvered herself up.

"You cheated!" Ron accused them.

"No, we won, fair and square," Ginny argued with her brother. "Ask Bill!" She pointed a finger at their eldest brother, who had just popped open a bottle of Muggle beer.

"There were no rules about timeouts," Bill told Ron. "I hold that Ginny played fair—at least this time."

"How about we play again? Double or nothing?"

"No, Ron. No take-backsies!"

Ron cursed at her and Ginny just smiled sweetly. "Have any more of that beer, Bill?" Ron asked, finally.

Bill gestured towards a large cooler. Fishing through it, Ron grabbed one for himself and then a second one, which he tossed to Harry.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Hermione asked.

"Why not?" Ron asked. "There's no evil Dark Lord—or snatchers—after us."

"There're still Death Eaters who haven't been caught," Hermione reasoned. "I think we should just be careful.

"We'll be alright, Hermione," Harry told her. "It's not like we're getting drunk."

Hermione finally nodded, effectively ending the argument. Ginny looked over at George, who had remained mostly silent.

George had a beer of his own and was sitting on a beach chair off to the side, fiddling with some sort of contraption.

Hermione looked worried still, and Ginny wondered if she was picturing some drinking-related calamity befalling them.

"Can I have a beer?" She asked Bill.

"Well, I don't know, Firefly," Bill said, frowning. "You are an awful lot younger than these hooligans."

Ginny gaped until Bill broke into a grin. "Just kidding. You turn seventeen in three days—I can't keep you from magic _and_ beer. What kind of vacation would this be?"

Bill handed her one as she walked over, and she opened it, taking a sip. "Ick," she said, unable to stomach it. "I think I'd prefer anything over this shite."

"Hey, get it right, Ginny. It's not shite—it's piss," George told her, finally looking up from his project.

"Well, if you like it, you can have the rest of my piss" Ginny told him.

"I 'ave something you might like, Ginny," Fleur told her. She held up a bottle with some sort of purple-y juice in it.

"What's that?"

"Eet's a fruit cocktail,"answered Fleur. "Eet 'as vodka, fruit juice, and something else to make eet taste good."

"Get outta here with that girly shite," Ron told them.

"Don't be such a wanker," Ginny told her brother. "Do you have enough for me and Hermione?" She asked Fleur.

"Oui," Fleur smiled at her. Ginny wished she hadn't underestimated her sister-in-law's love for Bill when they had first met, but Ginny was glad that she had taken the time (eventually) to get to know Fleur.

Fleur held out the bottle to her, and as Ginny took it, she thanked her sister-in-law.

"'Ermione?" Fleur offered.

Hermione looked hesitant, but finally caved and took it from Fleur like she'd break it—or maybe like it would break her.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Hermione," Ginny said, hoping she didn't feel pressured.

Hermione's dark brown eyes peered into Ginny's amber ones, like she was trying to communicate with the younger witch without using any words. Finally, she said, "It's just that I've never drank in public before… and I'd hate to be caught off-guard."

Ginny nodded in understanding. "We're safe, now," she assured Hermione.

Hermione bit her lip, teasing it slightly before letting go of it and opening her drink determinedly.

"That's my girl," Ron congratulated his girlfriend.

Ginny took a gulp of her own drink, thinking of Hermione's fears. She understood them completely—it felt like they were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. She was trying to re-train herself to exist normally, too.

She took a seat on her towel, trying to ignore Harry's presence next to her. She watched as Hermione pulled out a book and began to read. Ron, Bill, and Harry were discussing Quidditch—normally she would be all over that conversation—and Fleur was lying on her chair, sunning herself. Ginny watched George, who was still fiddling with that contraption.

"What's that you've got, George?"

George looked up at her for a moment, hands still fidgeting with it. "It's a prototype of a puzzle Fred and I've been working on for the shop. I can't get it to work, though, since…" he grunted.

"What's it do?" Ginny asked.

"It's a configuration of sorts… you unlock the puzzle and then inside is a pranking object that you don't get to pick."

"That sounds… interesting."

"Problem is—we had a fail safe way for it to open, but it's not working."

Ginny watched as he threw it across the beach and into the water. "What are you doing?"

"There's no point!" George shouted. She had never seen him have such a fit since they'd been small, and it worried her more than his quiet had.

"It's alright," Ginny tried to placate him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not alright. Nothing is alright," George insisted. "Nothing has been right since Fred's been gone." He buried his head in his hands.

She looked away and found everyone staring at them, none of them saying a word. None of the looks were pitying—just a deep sadness that Ginny suspected would never mend.

She took her older brother into her arms and hugged him. She felt him shake for a moment before he stilled and pulled away, wiping at his eyes. "Sorry," George apologized.

"Nothing to be sorry about mate," Bill said, walking over and patting him on the back. "Why don't we go back and try to figure out what's up with the puzzle?"

"I'm not going to ruin the beach day," George said.

"We'll have more beach days. We live right next to the water."

Finally, George nodded and the two climbed the slope back to Shell Cottage. Ginny got up from George's chair and submerged herself in the seawater, enjoying the chill of the Atlantic Ocean and the way the salt smelled all around her.

Diving beneath the surface, she held her breath and stayed for a moment where she could see nothing but the blue all around her and seaweed floating by. Something touched her ankle and she shot upwards, hair flat and auburn against her head as she peered around, finding Harry behind her, grinning.

"You berk," she laughed.

Harry was laughing, too, and Ginny placed a hand against his chest as she waded in the water, pushing him away. "That's for scaring me!"

"So that's what I've got to do to get you to touch me," Harry said.

Ginny flushed, which she hadn't thought possible in the chill of the ocean.

He was looking at her from underneath his eyelashes, and Merlin, she wanted to bring her lips to his, again, like she'd done so long ago…

His fingers wound themselves in a strand of her hair, tugging it gently.

"We should stop," Ginny said after a moment.

"Why?"

She sucked in a breath, feeling like a magnet being drawn towards him. "Well, er..."

"Yes?" His eyes were intense, and so green against the sea as a backdrop.

Ginny did something very childish then—she jumped and dunked Harry beneath the water, and held him there for a moment before making her escape.

Later that night, after supper, Ginny did not visit the beach for the first evening since arriving at Shell Cottage. Instead, she sat on the sofa by the fire, reading a book Hermione had lent her.

It was some Muggle romance that she was guiltily enjoying—the main character had been kidnapped by a dastardly, yet charming and fit, pirate and was being forced into captivity at sea.

"Is that any good?" A voice asked from behind her. Ginny nearly jumped but kept her composure.

"I like it so far," she told Harry. "Though, I think the heroine is suffering from Stockholm Syndrome."

He chuckled. "One of those, eh?"

"Yeah. But it keeps me coming back for more, somehow."

He nodded as he took a seat next to her on the sofa, leg almost but not quite touching hers. There was some sort of current between their legs and Ginny wanted so badly to touch her leg against his.

"What brings you down here?" She finally made herself ask him.

"Oh, I couldn't sleep. And Ron was talking in his sleep."

"Anything I can use against him?"

"Plenty," Harry grinned mischievously. "But as his best mate, I can't tell you."

"You ruin all my fun." She readjusted her position and leaned back against the arm of the sofa, throwing her legs onto Harry's lap.

"Somehow, I don't believe that."

She gave him an innocent expression. "Now, I don't believe that at all," he told her. "That was far too innocent to be real."

"How do you think I got by being the only girl? I couldn't always beat the boys in rough-housing, though I have proven quite a few times that I'm a fantastic wrestler."

Harry chuckled. "I suppose you had to get by on cunning sometimes. It's a wonder you weren't in Slytherin."

"I could have been," she revealed. "But I wanted so badly to play Quidditch for Gryffindor."

"You picked your house based on Quidditch?" He asked incredulously.

"Does that surprise you?"

He appeared to think about it. "No, actually, not at all."

She settled her legs further into his lap, and as she picked her book back up, Ginny felt him begin to rub her feet. She couldn't help herself—she moaned.

Harry glanced at her but continued his work. She let another moan out, and finally said, "Do you have to sound so, erm, erotic?"

"I can't help it," defended Ginny. "That just feels so good." It was doing strange things to other parts of her body, too, but she ignored that with all her might.

"I think I'd better try to sleep, after all," Harry said, getting up and placing her legs gently back on the sofa.

Ginny worried that she'd pushed things too far. "Night, Harry."

"Night, Gin."

She watched him walk away back up the wooden staircase, trying not to stare too much at his bum. She thought about all the times she had watched Harry Potter walk away from her, heart sinking in a way that made Ginny feel ashamed.

She tried to concentrate back on her pirate romance, but only could think of that sinking feeling within her. Things had been so good between them, and she had gone and made it all awkward. Bloody hell.

Finally, Ginny gave up on the sexy and irresistible Captain Jack and the witty and beguiling Violette. She followed Harry's suit and went upstairs to her room, sitting there listlessly before she decided that she would take a shower.

Under the spray of the hot water, Ginny remembered the way Harry's touch earlier had heated her. Her belly tightened as her hands made their way south, first just lightly teasing herself. Her breath caught in her chest as she trailed her fingers through her slit, gathering the slick moisture. She remembered the way Harry's head had felt between her thighs when she'd been on his shoulders and imagined what it would have been like if he had been facing her.

She moaned, lost in the fantasy of Harry's tongue inside her. Ginny slipped a finger into her opening, slowly building more speed as she imagined the way Harry might lap her up, and then rub against her, hard and passionate. She nearly cried out as she came, only just managing to hold back as she pulled her fingers out of her pulsing core.

When she came back to earth, Ginny quickly washed and rinsed, running a brush through her coppery locks. Her cheeks were still a little flushed, she observed, as she plaited her wet hair. She'd blame it on the hot shower, she decided, if anyone asked. Not that they would.

Hermione was already asleep, breathing deeply in her twin camp bed when Ginny returned to their room.

Ginny undressed in the dark, throwing her clothes in a pile on the floor and burrowing herself under her quilt. She lay in bed for a long time, listening to the rain hit the window until she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Ginny awoke the next morning determined not to allow things to be awkward between her and Harry this morning. It was a good thing, too, as Harry was acting as if nothing strange had happened the night before.

Breakfast this morning was just toast and cereal, which suited Ginny just fine.

"What's the plan for today?" Ron asked.

"Mostly relaxation, as Fleur and I will have a lot to do tomorrow for Ginny's birthday. I think we'll go into town today if you lot want to come along."

"Hell yes," Ginny said. "It's been so long since I've been out and about."

Ron and Hermione nodded along.

"Is there a bookshop in Tinworth?" Hermione asked eagerly. "I'd like to get a new mystery or two."

"I'll go with you if there is one," Ginny told her. "I want to catch up on my Muggle romance addiction."

"Not more pirate love?" Harry joked with her.

Ginny fought the urge to blush in embarrassment, electing to give him a two-finger salute instead. He grinned at her, and she grinned back, heart and body both reacting to the way he smiled. Yesterday had not been good for her self-restraint, she thought.

"Well, let's head out soon and we can make a day of it," Bill decided. "We'll all split up, then meet for lunch and do some more shopping after."

Ginny finished her tea and cheese on toast and went upstairs, eager to get ready for the day.

She threw on a pair of denim shorts and a pale purple vest top as Hermione sat on her own twin bed, already dressed, and reading. "You got ready quickly," Ginny commented.

Hermione murmured in agreement as she continued to read. Ginny chuckled and said, "Come on. I bet everyone else is already ready to go."

Hermione only just managed to tear herself away from her book and mark her place as Ginny walked out their bedroom door and down the stairs into the kitchen, where everyone was indeed waiting. Ron immediately went to stand next to Hermione, grabbing her hand in his.

"Aww, did you miss your girlfriend in the ten minutes she was gone?"

"Ginny, what's gotten into you?" Hermione asked.

"Well, absolutely nothing has," Ginny replied. "Gotten into me, that is."

Hermione shot her an arch look but didn't reply verbally.

Everyone ignored their exchange as they grabbed their bags or wallets and began to walk out the front door towards the car. Of course, it had to be magically expanded to fit all seven of them. Hermione began to tell them the virtues of a multi-purpose vehicle, something she said all Weasleys should invest in.

Ginny shook her head, smiling, knowing that none of them would ever have the need as long as they had magic to expand the insides of a car. Ginny didn't think she would ever get a car, either, as she would soon be able to apparate or floo anywhere she needed to go.

They arrived in Tinworth, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry heading to the nearest bookstore first. Hermione was even harder to reign in than Ginny had expected her to be. As she stopped to ask Harry if their friend was okay, he explained that it was the first bookstore she'd been in since the summer before their sixth year.

"It's like watching someone who's been jonesing," Ginny commented.

He nodded. "Yeah. Ron had better hide her wallet."

"We should let her buy as many as she wants. You know she'll never regret it."

"You're right," he conceded, watching as Hermione took a seat on the floor and began reading. "Is that too much?" he asked, gesturing.

Ginny shrugged. "Would Ron not do the same thing in a Quidditch store?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably, if Quidditch supplies were the same price as books. Find anything you like yet?"

"Not really. I was hoping something would catch my fancy, but nothing has."

Harry grabbed a book at random off the shelf next to them. "What about this? It's about, er…" His eyes widened as he read the back of the book, "Well, never mind," he said, attempting to put it back.

Ginny snatched it from Harry's hands as he fumbled with it and read the description. Her cheeks warmed. "Oh my," she agreed. "Definitely not."

She put it back and he grabbed another. "There's always this one about… werewolves?"

"Muggles seem to like the idea of wolf mates," Ginny explained, having read one or two. "They can be interesting, but they're not my favourite."

"What are your favourites, then?" he asked.

Ginny bit her lip, thinking. "I like the normal ones, with cute romantic plots. Or the ones with bad boys who get redeemed through the power of love."

"Not the bad boys," Harry groaned. "Why do girls like bad boys?"

"Nice guys tend to know they're nice, and think they deserve exactly what they want because of it," she told him.

"I don't—"

"Well, you're not a nice guy, Harry. You're a good guy, and a brave man. There's a difference, I promise you."

He looked confused but nodded anyway.

"And," Ginny continued. "You'd think I'd have gotten enough danger in my own life, but I do like books with a hint of danger and trouble, as well. A good plot is key."

"Like pirates raiding the high seas?" he asked.

"Oh shut it, you," Ginny laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. "But, yes, like that."

He grinned cheekily at her. "Oh, looks like Ron has had enough and is dragging Hermione out."

Hermione looked a little distraught as Ron pulled her by the hand, a bag filled with books in Hermione's other hand.

Harry and Ginny grinned at each other and followed them out of the shop.

Ginny glanced at Harry, who was looking around the street, face serious and alert. She wanted to tell him that he didn't have to be so tense, that everything was safe now, but Ginny knew that there was no use. Nothing stopped the fear, even now that Tom was gone. It was like an old instinct; it was one they hadn't quite learned how to bury yet.

So, Ginny let Harry do what he needed to do to feel safe, as he let her when he sat with her in the evenings at the beach. She bumped her hand against his briefly, thrilling in the touch and also just wanting to lend some comfort to him. He looked at her, face softening momentarily before his mask was back up.

"Oh, look, Harry!" She said excitedly, pointing. "A Muggle coffee shop! I've always wanted to try one out!"

"Me too," Harry told her. "Want to go in?"

She nodded eagerly, face lit up in a wide smile. She grabbed his hand and pulled him excitedly in its direction. She opened the door and they were immediately greeted by the strong, pleasant scent of sweet coffee, and the sound of a grinding.

"What's that sound?" She asked, trying not to cover her ears.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, nearly shouting to be heard. "Shall we go look at the menu?"

She shook her head affirmatively, not feeling like yelling. They stared at the menu, absolutely confused as to what was what.

Finally, the grinding sound stopped and the Muggle woman behind the counter called out someone's order, leaving the coffee at the pick-up window.

"Welcome in," she greeted as she came over to help them. "What can I get started for you?"

Ginny thought she detected a soft Irish accent, as if the woman had begun to lose it after relocating. "Erm, we've never had this type of coffee before," Ginny finally admitted to the woman. "What would you recommend?"

They both took her recommendations based off their favourite flavours, Ginny ending up with someone called a mocha and Harry with a caramel macchiato.

They sat at a small table in the corner of the room, Harry taking the seat that would allow him to see everyone in the shop and what they were doing, and Ginny sitting in the seat facing the window.

She watched Harry take a sip of his drink, and asked, "What do you think?"

He licked his lips, a bit of whipped cream stuck in the left corner of his mouth.

"It's good," he decided. "It's not like tea."

Ginny tried her own, nearly burning her tongue. Something in her brain lit up, similarly to when she had a bite of fudge or treacle tart. "This is good," she said. "It's definitely not like tea."

She couldn't stop staring at the whipped cream, still on the corner of his lip. She wanted to kiss it off him, imagined the way the coffee would taste on his lips and tongue.

"What?" Harry asked. "Why are you staring at me?"

She let out a nervous giggle, which annoyed her more than anything else, before she told him, "You have some cream on your mouth," and pointed at the corner of her own lip.

He felt for it on his lip, pink tongue darting out and licking its way along. Somehow, Harry still missed it. "Here," Ginny offered. "Let me help you."

She reached across the table toward his face carefully, trying to keep her hand from shaking. She wiped it from the corner of his lip, finger brushing lightly along his bottom one on the way there, before she brought her fingers back to her mouth and licked the whipped cream off it.

Harry was staring at her now, gaping, cheeks reddening slightly. "That's better," Ginny smiled.

He let out a ragged breath.

"Something wrong?" Ginny asked, not daring to imagine that she had affected him the same way he had been affecting her in the last week.

"No, not at all," Harry said, cheeks still red.

She shrugged and took another sip of her mocha, beginning a conversation about the Harpies.

Hours later, they all piled back into the magically-enhanced car and Fleur drove them back to Shell Cottage. Ginny felt rather tired and was fighting sleep on the ride back to the cottage. Her eyes closed against her will and she felt the relief of rest as her head fell against someone's warm shoulder.

Soon she was being woken up, but she could barely open her eyes. "Come on, Gin," a familiar voice coaxed. "I'll help you to bed, but I can't carry you."

She finally nodded sleepily, opening her eyes the smallest amount possible. "Harry?"

"Yeah, it's me. Everyone else is getting supper ready, but I'll get you to bed if you want to sleep."

Ginny tried to push the sleepiness away and did begin to feel more awake as she stretched her arms high above her head, shirt rising just a bit past her belly button. Harry let out a strange sound, but she paid him no mind as unbuckled and climbed out, yawning.

"Thanks, Harry," she finally said, feeling more awake. "What's everyone doing for supper?"

"Ron and Hermione are preparing spag bol, and Fleur is tossing some sort of fancy salad. No one wanted George touching the food, so he and Bill are fiddling with the wireless, I think."

"Hermione and Ron can cook?" Ginny asked.

"Ron's actually better at it than Hermione," Harry explained. "I think it's his passion for food."

"He always loved to help Mum in the kitchen," Ginny admitted. "I hope he's nearly as good as her."

"It's hard to rival Molly Weasley's cooking," Harry told her seriously.

She chuckled. "Yes, feeding a small army for thirty years of your life would improve your cooking skills, I imagine."

They were standing next to each other near the front door, facing each other. Ginny heard the nearby sea, waves breaking against the shore. Her heart skipped a beat as they stood there, looking at each other.

Ginny fought the urge to fidget with her vest top, finally deciding that she would just open the door and walk into the cottage.

Harry followed her, and as she led them away from their almost-moment, she wondered why she kept pulling away from him. What was she afraid of?

She made her way to the kitchen and tried to be of use to someone, jumping into any tasks that they needed help with, trying not to think too hard of the feelings of confusion and desire that Harry had warring within her. Did he feel the same way? she wondered before chastising herself and focusing on helping with browning the meat for the spag bol.

"You look like you are concentrating extremely hard, Firefly," Bill told her.

She looked up from the almost-brown meat at her eldest brother, startled out of her riotous thoughts. "Oh, nah. Just making sure not to poison us all," she told him.

He gave her a look like he knew that she was lying but wasn't going to call her out on it this time. She counted her blessings as she began to drain the grease.

Dinner seemed like it was prepared in no time with everyone's help, and soon they were sitting silently at the table, shoveling pasta into their mouths.

"So, Ginny, is there anything you want for your birthday?" Bill asked midway through the meal, breaking the silence.

He took a sip of his red wine and Ginny thought about it. She truly couldn't think of a thing that she wanted—everything she would have wanted the year before seemed silly. "Maybe some school supplies," she finally said.

"School supplies?" George piped up. "Who are you and what have you done with Ginevra Weasley?"

Ginny shrugged, swallowing her bite of pasta. She wiped her mouth and said, "There's nothing else I can think of. Anything that's not useful seems a little frivolous."

"You sound like Mum," Ron complained. "It's not frivolous if it makes you happy."

Ginny shrugged again; mouth full of spag bol. Ron tutted in disappointment, and Harry told her quietly from beside her, "Too bad I already got you your gift—it's not a textbook or quill, either."

She turned to look at him, swallowing her bite so quickly it hurt. Her cheeks burned and curiosity raged within her. What had Harry gotten her? He'd never gotten her a gift before.

She barely kept herself from asking him and she saw the mirth in his eyes as he watched her fight with herself about it. "You'll have to wait 'til tomorrow to open it," Harry teased.

"Oh, you killjoy."

He laughed and just like that, conversation reignited around the table.

After supper was cleaned up, Ginny found herself on the couch in front of the fire, once again. She wasn't reading this time, as she couldn't seem to quiet her thoughts long enough to read one sentence.

The subject of her thoughts entered the living room and sat down on the sofa next to her. "You seem to be a creature of habit," Harry commented.

Ginny's legs were curled up beneath her and she had to readjust her position to be able to look at him fully. "Oh, am I?" she asked blithely.

He smiled crookedly and her heart did a strange little flip-flop, reminding her that that exact smile was part of the reason she had so easily fallen for him again in her fifth year. She could almost remember the moment she'd realized that she was totally and completely bewitched. It had hit her like the Hogwarts Express, as he had been smiling at her just like that at Quidditch practice one day. She had to admit, the realization had not done her relationship with Dean Thomas any favours.

"Yes, definitely," Harry answered. "You get into routines."

"You've been watching me, have you, Potter?" She grinned at him flirtatiously.

"Actually, I have been. I can't seem to help it, you see."

She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what was emboldening him so.

Just then, Ron and Hermione entered the living room as well. She wanted to bat-bogey her brother as he continued loudly with Hermione about whatever he'd been blathering on about.

"Don't you ever shut up?" she asked Ron.

"Merlin, Ginny. Did you need someone to pull your broom out for you?"

She rolled her eyes, trying to push her annoyance with her brother back. She loved him, she told herself. She really did. He just had the worst timing in the world.

"I like it right where it's at, thanks, dear brother."

Harry made a choking sound, and she patted him on the back as she uncurled her legs from under her and stood up, stretching. For the second time that evening, her vest top rode up past her belly button, and Harry made yet another strange sound that she ignored. "I think I'll go to bed."

As she walked up the stairs, she heard Hermione berating Ron and she only felt mildly guilty that she had seemingly gotten him in trouble again. Oh well, she knew that the two would make up in an explosive (and completely disgusting) way.

She lay in bed for a long while, listening to the murmur of Ron, Hermione, and Harry's voices downstairs. She finally drifted off as she wondered what Harry had been about to say.


	3. Chapter 3

On the morning of August 11, Ginny woke up to a quiet house. She turned in her little twin bed, unready to face the day, wondering why it was so suspiciously quiet, until she remembered what day it was. Her seventeenth birthday! She could finally use magic legally outside of school!

She sat straight up, an excited grin lighting up her face. She wanted to reach for her wand and charm something in her room just to prove she could, but she held back. She'd have her chance.

Ginny rolled out of bed and could feel her hair sticking up all over the place as it was wont to do first thing in the morning. Ah, there was something she could charm.

She grabbed her wand from the bedside table and stood in front of the mirror. " _Corrigo,"_ she muttered, making sure to picture her hair just as she wanted. Ginny's hair began to lie flat magically, and she made sure not to allow herself to get carried away.

As she made her way downstairs in her dressing robe, Ginny took note with great satisfaction that no Ministry owls were arriving. Oh, the joys of being of age, she thought. Now, no one could track her.

She grabbed a cup and poured herself some tea from the stove, taking a seat at the table and enjoying the quiet. There had been so few times in her life that everything around her had been silent.

In fact, it was suspicious just how quiet it was… Ron hadn't shut up since they'd arrived the week before, and now she couldn't hear him anywhere. Standing up to investigate, Ginny made sure to grab her tea as she poked around the cottage. No one was about. How utterly bizarre, Ginny thought. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and stepped outside, feet bare.

It was a warm day, already, so early. She saw a shape distantly on the beach and went back inside to change before she ventured that direction. Once changed, she poured yet another cup of tea and headed down to the beach.

She knew by the head of hair, even from far away, that it was Harry sitting there watching the waves.

"Good morning," Ginny told him quietly as she finished her descent down the slope. He looked up at her in surprise. "What, you didn't hear me coming?" She asked.

"No, but Happy Birthday!"

"Oh, thank you," she grinned, ruffling his hair and making it even messier.

"Do you feel any different?" Harry asked.

"Definitely—I'm ready to take on the world! One Apparition point at a time," Ginny joked. "I reckon soon I'll be asked to head a big department at the Ministry."

"Oh please, hire me!" He begged. "I promise I've got all my NEWTs."

Ginny giggled, liking the way Harry's eyes crinkled in the corners.

"I've got an idea, birthday girl," Harry said. "How about I make you breakfast?"

"You don't have to do that," said Ginny. "I don't need breakfast."

"I want to," he insisted. "I know it's your favourite meal—I can make a fry-up if you want. Or I can make pancakes. Whatever you want!"

"Well, if you insist," Ginny acquiesced.

Harry hopped up and offered his hand to her. She took it, not because she needed the help, but because she liked the way his skin felt against hers whenever they touched.

It was the same feeling of electricity and comfort that she always got from Harry. She sprang up, grinning at him. They walked back, chatting comfortably back and forth. He put on a fresh pot of tea when they entered from the kitchen and began to hunt for ingredients.

"So where is everyone else?" Ginny finally asked.

Harry paused inside the ice box, having been in search of eggs, and said something that sounded rather mumbl-y to Ginny.

"What?" She asked.

He pulled his head out, grinning, egg carton in one hand and bacon in the other and said, "They all went back to town."

"What in Merlin's name for? We were just there," she said incredulously.

"It turns out that everyone was so excited to get out of the house that they forgot that we went there yesterday for birthday supplies in the first place," Harry explained. "So, they had to go back today, and instructed me to keep you busy as I'd already gotten your gift."

That explained why she couldn't hear Ron. "So that's why you're making me breakfast," she said. "To distract me from the goings on."

"No," he disagreed. "I'm making you breakfast because I know you're hungry in the mornings. And you do love a good fry-up."

"You're right. The full-English is my favourite breakfast," she replied, watching as steam began to billow out the kettle spout. "All that sodium—yum!"

He chuckled, putting the last of the bacon on the frying pan and taking the kettle off the hob.

Ginny got up and retrieved the teapot, cosy, and tea leaves. "Is Irish Breakfast tea alright?" she asked.

He nodded from where he was cracking an egg and she placed the amount of loose tea she wanted into the teapot, pouring the boiling water into the pot to steep.

She sat it on the table and fished around in a drawer for a moment for the strainer—she could have sworn that Bill kept it here, she thought. Finally, she found it and she placed it next to the teapot on the table, watching Harry's back and bum as he worked in the kitchen.

She'd never told another soul, but Harry's back and bum had always been one of her favourite things about him—she knew a lot of people had always thought of him as scrawny, and he was still wiry, but Harry had had an amazing bum for years, and she had always taken the time to notice. Even, she hated to admit to herself, while she had been dating Michael and Dean.

Now, she watched as he moved about the kitchen, and the way his bum looked in his trousers, a strange feeling of heat building within her. She ignored it, finally looking away and trying to think of something else to think about as Harry made them breakfast.

Something about just the two of them in the kitchen, fixing breakfast and tea, made her feel free. As if something had been lifted from her eyes, Ginny for the first time understood that this could be the rest of her life—simple, quiet moments, uninterrupted by danger, or Dark Lords, or some big mystery that needed solving.

How wonderful, Ginny thought, to have so much peaceful quiet ahead of her.

Their breakfast was soon ready and the two of them ate in relative silence, enjoying each other's company. When they were done eating, and Ginny had drained the last of the tea down her throat, she told Harry, "Please, at least let me help with dishes."

He agreed, an easy-going smile on his face. She wondered if she had realized the same thing she had before they had eaten, or if maybe had felt that sense of relief as soon as he had defeated Voldemort.

She remembered the months she had spent in the castle the year before, how she hadn't just worried for her own well-being, but Harry's, Ron's, and Hermione's, as well, out there in the world, trying to find a way to defeat the Dark Lord. She had often wondered how Harry managed to live the way he had all those years—constantly looking over his shoulder, wondering when danger would present itself next. Ginny had had a small taste of that feeling at Hogwarts last year, and she wasn't sure how Harry had managed to survive the constant feeling of being in danger; how could anyone deal with it as long as he had, and turn out normal?

Ginny wondered if he even had been able to stop and relish the peace he had brought them all, or if he still felt like danger would follow wherever he went. She still felt like something could happen at any moment, even though she logically understood somewhere else in her mind that the danger was through.

She shook herself out of her contemplation, as she had almost dropped a dish back into the sink. She needed to keep a better grip on the soapy dishes, she thought.

"You know," Harry told her, breaking the silence. "We could magic the dishes clean, now that you're of age."

Ginny looked over at him, into his green eyes that shone through his glasses, and the sly grin on his face. "I like doing the dishes this way," she admitted. "It helps me think."

"Is there a lot on your mind, then?" he asked.

"A bit," answered Ginny, biting her lip. "But nothing I need to talk about at the moment."

Harry nodded and Ginny realized that they were being entirely too serious. She scooped some of the bubbles out of the sink and threw them at him. Her aim was true, hitting Harry in the face. He spat some bubbles out and a giggle erupted from her.

"Why, you—!" Harry said, face frozen in shock and dismay until a large, mischievous smile overtook it. "You'll pay for that, Weasley!" He reached over to Ginny's side of the sink, scooping up a handful of bubbles and smearing them on the side of her face.

Ginny giggled harder, and Harry's own laughter followed. "You should know, Potter, that I always win." She grabbed her wand and shot bubbles at him, some of them landing in his hair and staying there for a moment, comically, before popping.

"You're in for it!"

Before Harry could do anything else, Ginny took off running from him, giggling the entire time.

He gave chase, and she turned towards him at the last moment when they reached the sitting room, surprising him. She widened her stance and lowered herself closer to the ground, pretending to dart to her right before darting left and up the stairs, having juked Harry out. Her laughter was escaping her uncontrollably as she heard his feet pounding behind her.

She hid in her bedroom, attempting to close the door behind her. Too late, Harry was already there on the other side of the door, preventing her from closing it behind her. She pushed as hard as she could, but as he put his full weight into pushing it open, the door gave way and she had nowhere to go. She was backed into a corner, literally.

"I've got you now," Harry told her, laughing as he pinned her against the wall. "Try to escape me now!"

Ginny was out of breath, panting, the silliness mixing with something else in her as she felt his body against hers. "Who says I want to escape you?" she asked seriously, looking into his eyes as her giggles died down.

Harry was looking at her very seriously, now. There was something intense in his eyes as they gazed into her own, and as if being tugged towards each other magnetically, they leaned in, lips meeting in the middle.

Ginny felt like she had come home, like she'd never realized what she had been missing until now. His kiss was electric, and she realized that she had been thinking about it quite a lot. His hand intertwined with hers, holding it against the wall above their heads.

Harry's lips were gentle on hers, and warm, and as they pulled apart, Ginny couldn't help but smile, heart pounding hard in her chest.

"That was…" Harry said, wearing a goofy grin she hadn't seen on his face in ages.

"Yeah," she agreed breathlessly.

Harry stepped away from her, hand still in hers, and pulled her over to sit on her bed.

"Should we talk about this?" Ginny asked him tentatively.

"Erm, maybe?" Harry replied. "All I really know is I've been wanting to do that for ages, since Bill and Fleur's wedding."

"Me too," Ginny agreed. _What does this mean?_ Ginny wondered to herself silently, worrying that voicing her thoughts may ruin the moment.

She glanced down at her hand in his and decided that the meaning didn't matter. What did matter was that Harry's hand was holding hers, and she would very much like to kiss him again.

And so, she did.

Ginny leaned into him, bringing her free hand to cup his cheek. Harry seemed shocked for a moment but then responded back enthusiastically, his hand twining itself into her hair, playing with it as they kissed. His tongue teased her bottom lip, asking for entrance, which she happily granted.

Their kiss got harder as their tongues danced together, heat building within Ginny. Harry pushed her gently onto the bed and laid himself on top of Ginny. She pressed her body against his, desperate to feel his body again after all this time. She had so missed how his body felt as they kissed.

She took her hand off his face and squeezed his bum like she'd been aching to do earlier. Harry moaned at her touch and she grinned, pleased at the effect she had on him.

"We should… slow… down," Harry rasped between kisses.

"We. . . should," Ginny agreed, not slowing down in the slightest.

Harry pulled away and Ginny pouted, letting go of his bum. She felt like she was trying to put out a fire that she only wanted to feed: her body was burning from the inside out.

"What a birthday gift," she quipped, still a little breathless.

Harry smirked in a very un-Harry-like way. "That was your gift," he told her.

"I'll take it," Ginny agreed. "I don't think anyone could beat that."

He chuckled. "I'm just kidding. I do still have another gift for you. That was not premeditated, unlike your gift to me last year."

Now it was Ginny's turn to smirk, remembering the kiss she'd gifted him on his seventeenth birthday. She had been so satisfied with herself about that, so proud that she'd thought of it. She had wondered if it would be the last kiss they would share, and up until today, it had been.

Of course, this last kiss blew that one out of the water. Last time she hadn't gotten to touch Harry's bum.

She heard sounds coming from downstairs and straightened herself out before standing up from the bed. Harry looked at her in askance. She explained, "Sounds like they're back. I can hear Ron making a ruckus."

Harry straightened himself as well, standing up and running a hand through his messy raven hair. "You'll only make it worse doing that," Ginny told him. She brandished her wand and said, " _Corrigo,_ " as she pointed at Harry's hair.

His hair twitched, straightened for a mere moment, and then sprung back into messiness. "Sweet Merlin," she said. "No wonder your hair never lays flat. I think your magic won't let it."

"My magic?" he asked.

"It's the only possible explanation for what I just saw," Ginny chuckled.

Harry grinned in spite of himself. "I guess that's the best it'll get. I'd better go find Ron before he finds us in here."

Ginny nodded, once again wondering what this all meant for the two of them, and if they'd be telling everyone eventually. She put those thoughts out of her mind, somewhat thrilled to have something between them that no one else was privy to yet.

She sat back on her bed and grabbed the pirate romance she'd been reading, picking up where she'd left Sunday night. What had been happening again? Oh, yes, Violette had just saved Captain Jack's life, in an ironic twist that left Jack indebted to her. What would happen next? Ginny wondered, eyes reading down the page.

The bedroom door opened, and Hermione walked in, a shopping bag in hand. "What's that?" Ginny couldn't help asking.

"I stopped at the bookstore in town again," Hermione explained gleefully. "This should get me set for a month!"

Ginny laughed, wondering how Hermione would manage to read quite so many books in the next month when she had been spending so much of her spare time canoodling with Ron.

Hermione glanced over at her for the first time that morning, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Happy Birthday, by the way, Ginny. I imagine Harry's given you his gift?"

Ginny blushed and her eyes followed Hermione's to the spot on her bed next to her where there was definitely a messiness on the cover that made it look like someone had been on the bed with her. "Well, you see," Ginny began.

Hermione waved a hand at her, "I won't tell anyone. Not even Ron," she promised.

Ginny scrutinized the older witch, wondering why she would hold back from telling Ron. "Why not?" she asked her.

"You two have been dancing around each other the whole time we've been at Shell Cottage—and I know exactly what dancing around someone looks like, remember? I did it for about five years."

Well, that was true, Ginny reasoned.

"Honestly," she began to confide. "I'm not sure what's going on between us, anyway, so there's not really much to tell Ron."

Hermione nodded like she understood, and Ginny wasn't entirely sure that she did. A mixture of feelings swirling within Ginny, she put away the romance novel (again), and stood up from her bed. "I appreciate that you'll keep it to yourself, Hermione," Ginny said, smiling at the girl as she opened the door. "I think I'll go see what the plan is for today."

As Ginny walked down the stairs, she replayed the kisses she had shared with Harry. Merlin, she felt as if she'd been waiting ages to do all that, and it had ended so quickly. Would they have another opportunity to get away together? Would he still want to?

Ginny never got so insecure about guys—she generally felt that if they wanted her, they'd come to her and she'd give them a chance if they were interesting enough.

Harry was different, though. She'd had that awful crush on him when she was younger, and she had been ever so confused when he had rescued her from the Chamber of Secrets, as some part of her had wanted to hero worship him as she'd done previously, and another part of her had been mortified that she'd been a damsel in distress.

And she'd gone on with her life, given up on those feelings she'd had for Harry, and even sometimes forgot about them in the more interesting moments she had shared with Michael and Dean. Ever since Harry had kissed her in the common room for the first time, however, she had been so certain that it was Harry who was meant for her and had always been.

Now, she was left wondering if Harry felt the way she did. She knew he would never mean to hurt her, but she still felt strangely insecure about whatever it was that was growing between them. It felt new all over again and more tenuous than their previous relationship had been.

"There's our birthday girl!" Bill's voice called out in greeting. "How's it feel to be a grown-up?"

Ginny smiled at her eldest brother. "It feels a lot like being a kid," she told him. "Except, with legal magic."

Bill laughed and came over to give her a hug. "I remember when you were born, Firefly. You were all tiny and red—which, I guess is still accurate. But you do cry less now than you did then."

Ginny giggled. "That's what you think. Maybe I cry the same amount."

Bill ruffled her hair and pulled away from the hug. "Mum and Dad are so excited for your party tonight," he told her. "They'll be coming over about half-six for dinner and pudding."

"It'll be so good to see them again," Ginny said. "I bet Mum's been dying to see us all."

"She's been going spare," Ron piped up. Ginny looked over at him and saw that he was chewing on a piece of biscuit and rifling through some shopping bags.

"Maybe we should have them over for supper once a week?" Ginny said. "That way they don't feel disconnected from us while we're here."

"Why don't you ask Mum while they're here tonight?" Bill suggested. "Mum will love that you thought of it."

Ginny agreed and poured herself a cup of tea.

"That's not the same tea we made this morning before we left, is it?" Bill asked worriedly.

"No, Harry and I made new pot not too long ago," Ginny explained. "Irish Breakfast."

"Oh, my favourite," Bill said delightedly. "Is it still warm?"

Ginny took a tentative sip. "Yes, somewhat. But I can charm it for you."

Bill shook his head. "No, that's alright. It's never the same as when it's fresh, if you reheat the tea. I probably need to cut back on my caffeine intake, anyway."

"You drink too much tea," Fleur agreed from the table, speaking for the first time since Ginny had come downstairs. "More water is better for you."

Bill grimaced but nodded in agreement with his wife.

Ginny smiled at the two and wondered at the sheer intimacy of the two of them existing together and knowing each other so well. She wondered if she would ever experience that with Harry.

She shook her head at herself. "What are we doing until Mum and Dad come over tonight?"

Bill shrugged. "Anything you want, Firefly. The day is yours to command. We could do another beach trip, or go on a walk, or I could take you to the Ministry for your Apparition test."

"Let's go to the Ministry!" Ginny said excitedly. "I'd like to have my license as soon as I can."

"Plans on running away and Apparating around the globe?" Bill joked. "Alright, let me put my shoes back on and a nicer set of robes, then we can head out. You may want to put on more professional looking robes, too. Strange as it may sound, sometimes the test proctor will also judge you off that."

"Bloody ridiculous," Ron said. "Like the way you dress has any bearing on your Apparition skills."

"Too right, Ron," agreed Bill. "Sadly, that's the way of the world."

Ginny shook her head but went back up to her room to change anyway. As she was going up, she ran into Harry again as he was heading down.

"Fancy meeting you here, Potter," she grinned.

"Yes, what a fine coincidence," Harry replied. He glanced around quickly and then pressed her against the wall, bringing his lips to hers in a kiss.

"We have to stop meeting like this," she told him in between kisses.

"Or," Harry suggested, placing a kiss in the junction between her jaw and neck. "Or, we can keep meeting _just like this._ "

Ginny quieted a moan, a shiver rolling through her. His hand was on her bum, now, squeezing gently. Ginny did let out a moan this time, and as soon as she did, they both froze. "Now, look what you made me do," she told him.

"Turnabout is fair play," Harry told her.

"Oh, is it?" Ginny asked. "We'll see about that." She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge and she was pleased to note that he looked both worried and aroused.

Now that she had more blood in her brain, she was able to separate herself from Harry and worm her way out from his arms. "I've got to go get ready for my Apparition test," she told him. "Bill's taking me as soon as we're both dressed."

Harry glanced down at the watch on his wrist. "That'll take up at least a few hours," he said. "The summer birthdays have longer lines than the others."

"Good to know," Ginny grinned at him. "Tell me you'll miss me during my extended absence."

"I'll miss you, alright," Harry said.

"I think I believe you," she decided. "I'd best be off, now."

She pivoted onto her tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you on the other side."

"Good luck, Gin. I know you'll do great."

She smiled at him and sashayed into her room, swaying her hips for his benefit. It seemed to her as if they'd moved lightyears in just the space of a few hours, but Ginny didn't mind one bit. It was as if they were picking up where they'd left off one year before.

"Hermione," she began. "Would you be able to help me pick out some professional robes to wear to the Ministry for my Apparition test? I'm not sure if anything I have will work."

Hermione had looked up from her book and was now placing a bookmark in the space where she left off. "Of course, Ginny. I'd love to. If you don't have anything, we can see if any of my robes will fit you."

Ginny didn't think that anything of Hermione's would fit, but appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless. Hermione's robes were nice—she could tell just from the material that her parents had the money to buy new, higher quality robes that Ginny never had had the privilege of owning. She didn't envy Hermione for it, though.

They looked through Ginny's wardrobe, both girls finally agreeing that a plain set of robes from school were Ginny's best bet, as they discovered that they were definitely different sizes (Hermione was much taller, so of course her robes were too long for Ginny).

Ginny and Bill left the cottage, Bill side-along Apparating Ginny directly to the Atrium at the Ministry. "From here," he told her in line for their check-in, "We will take the lift up to the Department of Magical Transportation where they administer the tests."

She nodded, suddenly more nervous than she had anticipated.

She needn't have worried, she discovered. She passed her test on her first attempt, something she hadn't been sure would be possible with the laughable lack of instruction they had received the year before. Luckily, she'd read enough about it and been able to practice some with Bill and Fleur's help earlier in the summer after she'd shared her concerns with them.

"I knew you could do it, Firefly," Bill told her. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Ginny said, flushed with happiness. "I can travel the world with nary a trace, now."

"Hopefully you won't have any need of that," Bill muttered darkly. Ginny worried that his mind had drawn back to his memories of the war, and the many skirmishes and the few battles that had happened. She vividly remembered his wedding, how they had only just avoided torture after the Ministry had fallen. She could see in her mind's eye the look on his and Fleur's faces as they had huddled together, protecting each other in their wedding finery.

Ginny shook the images from her mind, not willing to relive those moments again any time soon. They were always hard to shake, unfortunately, and she had to take a few breaths and concentrate on the noises going on around her.

It helped, and soon the images were in the back of her mind, leaving Ginny able to focus on her achievement. Bill was looking at her, worry etched in the lines on his face. Those hadn't used to be there, Ginny thought. Neither had the scars been there before Greyback… She caught the memories intruding again and took a deep breath before releasing it and thinking to herself _We are safe now._ She didn't allow herself to think of Fred, who wasn't safe. He was just _lost._

"Can we get some ice cream in Diagon Alley before we go back?" Ginny asked.

"I was afraid you'd never ask."

H&G

Bill and Ginny returned to Shell Cottage a few hours before supper and Bill banished her from the kitchen, ordering her not to help in any way with her birthday meal. Ginny couldn't complain—she could think of other, much more enjoyable things to occupy her time. Well, really, it was one thing, a person with messy hair…

She found herself knocking on Ron and Harry's bedroom door, hoping to find Harry alone. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione were in there with him, as well. "How'd it go?" Harry asked.

Ron looked at him, and then at Ginny, and said, "Well?"

"I passed!" Ginny told them excitedly. "First try!"

"Congratulations, Ginny!" said Hermione. "I knew you'd be able to do it."

"Thank you," Ginny said. "You know what's even more exciting? I didn't even lose an eyebrow."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oi, you're lucky it's your birthday, otherwise I'd be retaliating for that comment."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at her brother.

The siblings smiled at each other, and they all began to discuss other things. Mostly Quidditch.

The time flew by, and soon they were being called down to supper. Ginny flew into her parents' arms, hugging them happily.

"Happy Birthday, Ginny-girl," her dad said, hand against her head in the way he'd always hugged her into his chest. She smiled, inhaling his scent and feeling so incredibly safe and happy. Nostalgic, maybe. She hugged her mum next, experiencing the same sensations. This was why they had fought, Ginny thought as she extracted herself.

"My baby is all grown up," Ginny's mum said, eyes shining.

"Oh Mum," Ginny smiled, not embarrassed in the least. She understood that her coming of age was the end of an era for her mother, who had spent a good portion of her life rearing their brood. "Thank you for everything."

"You act like you're leaving us," her mum said. "You're not getting away that easily."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, I didn't think I could."

Her mum pulled her into another hug and then ushered her towards the table, which was groaning under the weight of the food prepared. Harry was sat next to her, and when she caught his eye he smiled slyly.

Her heart fluttered and she kicked him lightly under the table. They avoided each other's eye as everyone took their seats and the food was passed around the table. Ginny was forced into an extra-large helping of meat and potatoes by her mum, but she only smiled and dug in.

About halfway through the meal, she felt a hand on her right leg, running a finger lightly up and down the length of her thigh before full-on squeezing. She turned to look at Harry, doing her best not to turn red. He was innocently speaking to George on his other side and she silently cursed him in her mind. _Turnabout is fair play._


	4. Chapter 4

Harry's touch was igniting something within her: a desire to touch him, as well as her natural competitive spark that had led her down many rabbit holes throughout her life. _Turnabout is fair play_ , Ginny thought wickedly as Harry's hand trailed up and down her thigh beneath the table.

She had to be kind and return the favour, Ginny decided. She avidly participated in discussion around the dinner table as she allowed her hand to caress Harry's thigh in return. Beside her, she felt him tense as her hand moved upward, before she gave a soft squeeze and trailed her hand back down his thigh before leaving him alone.

"What's that, Harry?" she asked him.

"Er," Harry stuttered. His face was red, and his green eyes were dark behind his glasses. Merlin, she thought as she took him in, she couldn't wait to kiss him again later when no one was around. She couldn't wait to get him alone—was imagining in her mind's eye dragging him from the table right now, even, and kissing him blind.

She'd have to wait patiently; she had learned to wait well, being the youngest child, but she was feeling rather petulant about it right now. Never mind the fact that it was her own birthday party holding her back from him.

Harry's hand stayed away from her for the rest of the meal, so Ginny behaved herself as well. After they were done eating her birthday meal, her mum brought out cake and jelly and ice cream, which had always been Ginny's favourite dessert, for her birthday.

She was stuffed by the time it was all done, and then it was time for her to open her birthday presents.

"Oh, dear, please open the gift from your father and I first," her mum said, levitating a small box wrapped in paper with moving quaffles and snitches on it.

As it came to sit in front of her, Ginny glanced at her parents, sure that her mum was about to pull out the camera. And out it came. Ginny made sure her dad was ready with it before she began to tear the paper apart, finding a wooden box beneath the paper. She lifted the lid, and inside sat a beautiful, gleaming timepiece on a golden chain.

"It's so beautiful," Ginny told her parents, chest tightening. "Thank you!"

It had to have cost a fortune for them to purchase such a beautiful watch. She would treasure it always, she decided.

"We thought we'd get it on a chain so you could keep it in your bag or pockets," Ginny's mum explained. "You know how wristwatches for witches go in and out of style."

Ginny nodded, smiling from ear to ear, running her fingers along the gleaming metal. "Thanks, Mum and Dad."

"You're welcome, Ginny-girl," her dad told her. "Just remember, now you never have an excuse for being late."

They all laughed—it had become a bit of a running joke over the years that all Weasleys were always late, and Ginny had proved to be no exception.

"We'll see," said Ginny, grinning.

Another gift was levitated to Ginny. "This is from Fleur and I," Bill told her. She could tell that Bill had wrapped it by the way it looked. Bill was good at many things, but wrapping gifts was sadly not one of them. There were large amounts of tape on the package, as well as seemingly random strips of wrapping paper taped in spots that must have torn in the struggle or had just not reached far enough.

"Fleur, please teach your husband how to wrap a gift," Ginny told her sister-in-law.

Fleur's eyes widened in worry as a bashful smile made its way onto her face. "I am actually worse than Bill ees," Fleur said. "That ees why 'e wrapped it instead of me."

"I had no idea that was even possible," Ginny heard Ron mutter to Harry and Hermione. "Bill has always been the worst at that."

Ginny just shook her head and began to examine the package, looking for the most ideal place to begin unwrapping it. She finally found a seam that seemed promising and pulled. She had a bit of a struggle unwrapping it, but she was finally able to get all the paper (and most of the tape) off.

There were a few different gifts inside the box. There was a book on crypts and tombs, and the types of curses that were put on the most famous ones excavated by Gringotts curse-breakers, as well as a few school books, two nice rolls of fancy parchment, and an extravagantly beautiful quill that Ginny never would have been able to convince herself to buy, no matter how badly she'd have wanted it. "Thanks, Bill and Fleur! I can't wait to read these, and to use the quill and parchment. Guess who's getting fancy letters this year!"

They laughed, and Ginny made a mental note to herself to do better about writing while at school this year.

Before she had even managed pack everything back into the box they'd come in, another gift was levitated towards her.

"This is from me," Hermione said. Ginny noticed that it was decidedly book shaped.

Ginny opened it eagerly and found that it was a Muggle romance novel. "This is one of my favourites," said Hermione. "So, I thought I'd get you a copy to take to school with you."

"Thank you, Hermione," Ginny replied. "I can't wait to read it!"

On and on it went, everyone levitating or tossing gifts to her, until finally, it was Harry's turn. He handed the gift to Ginny and she looked at him, memorizing the excitement on his face and the way his eyes were so bright.

She shook the gift lightly; just in case it was breakable. From the way it sounded, it wasn't. It gave a steady _thunk_. She opened it curiously and found a bit of folded parchment. "Is this…?" She asked.

He nodded. "I'll show you how everything works later."

Everyone was staring at them, different expressions on each face. Bill, Fleur, Mum, and Dad all looked confused and curious, while Ron, Hermione, and George all looked surprised.

Ginny swallowed thickly, knowing how difficult it must have been for Harry to decide to give the Marauder's Map to her, as it was one of the last things that he had left that had belonged to his dad. "Thank you," she told him quietly, looking into his eyes.

Ginny didn't see the looks exchanged between her parents, or the smile on Bill's face as she and Harry looked at each other.

"You're welcome, Gin."

Harry didn't say anything else, just stared at her a moment longer before breaking eye contact and taking the final bite of his cake.

Everyone around the table was quiet, and it filled Ginny with a sense of unease. Weasleys were supposed to be boisterous and there had been far too many contemplative silences these last few months.

"Thanks so much, everyone. Thank you for making this birthday what it was." Ginny didn't mention that she wished Fred was here, or how the vacant silences were often when he would have normally said something funny or stupid to them all, or when he would have pulled some sort of prank. She wondered what she would have gotten from him for her birthday—George's gift hadn't had his usual joy and mischief.

Ginny shook her head and made herself smile at her family members. "It was such a lovely time," she told them all.

Everyone was smiling and murmuring quietly, and Ginny thought that they needed an explosion of some sort. "I'll be right back," she told Harry quietly. "Think you could distract them?"

"I'll try," he assured her. He said something to Ron about the Cannons that caused Ron to cry out in outrage and Ginny made her exit up the stairs and into her bedroom. She dug through her school trunk until she found one of the Wheezes she'd brought to school the year before and not had a chance to use.

It would do, she thought, brandishing her wand as she headed downstairs again and silently cast the spell to set it off.

It lit with a loud squeal and made its way into the living room, where it erupted into fireworks.

Everyone jumped, and then laughed and cheered.

They were all sat in the living room around the fire—Ginny sitting on the floor in front of her mum. Her mum was playing with her hair, plaiting it as she had done when Ginny had been little. It was comforting for Ginny to feel her mother's fingers running through her hair, tugging it gently this way and that. She closed her eyes in relaxation, basking in the sensation of her mum's hands and the warmth of the fire in the heart in front of her. It all reminded her of evenings at the Burrow growing up—just with Harry present as well.

Ginny opened her eyes and turned to look at him as he chatted with Ron and Hermione in a corner. How many times had she seen that picture? She wondered. Too many too count. Many times, it had meant the three were up to something, but now they were all smiles and laughter.

Everyone was slowly getting better at hiding the darkness within, or at least burying it deep inside themselves. She wondered if it would always be this way—an elephant in the room with them all, and every single one of them ignoring it in favour of happiness and peace. It wasn't the worst thing, she supposed. She was enjoying this moment with everything inside of her, even if she wished that Fred were there. Or even any of her friends who would never celebrate another birthday with her again.

"Can I ask you something, Mum?"

"What's that, dear?" her mum leaned down and asked quietly, fingers still playing with Ginny's hair, undoing the plait and beginning anew.

"How did you all move on last time?" Ginny looked into her mother's brown eyes, so much like her own. Ginny found that they were shining with unshed tears. Her mum bit her lip just like Ginny did sometimes.

"It was just time, dear. Lots of time, tears, and quiet moments. The good moments begin to outweigh the bad ones, and soon all your laughter will be genuine again."

Ginny bit her own lip unthinkingly. "I don't know how you did it twice now—picked everything up and started all over. It feels like we're putting together a puzzle without all the pieces."

Her mum nodded, fingers stopping thoughtfully in Ginny's hair for a moment. "It will always feel that way, but soon there will be more pieces to make an even bigger picture."

Ginny wasn't sure if that was how things worked but decided to take her mother at her word. Her mum's fingers began to move in her hair again, movements sure and decisive, years of experience guiding them through muscle memory.

Ginny looked over at Harry, Ron, and Hermione again, a smile making its way onto her lips as she watched them. As if he sensed her gaze, Harry turned to look at her and smiled softly at her.

Yes, perhaps everything would be okay eventually.

H&G

After everyone had gone for the night, Ginny sat on her bed, organizing her gifts in her school trunk. She heard a tapping on the door to the bedroom, and she immediately knew it had to be Harry. Hermione wouldn't knock, as she was staying in the same room, and Ron and her brothers wouldn't either, simply because they didn't have the skill.

She opened the door, heart skipping a beat as she saw Harry. He was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, hair as disheveled as usual.

She was suddenly aware of her own attire—she'd changed into pajamas and was wearing a skimpy vest top with even skimpier sleep shorts. They were extremely short, and almost sheer, as she'd been wearing them since she'd been thirteen, when her mum had bought them for her birthday. "Alright?" Harry asked her.

"Er, yeah. You?" she asked, willing herself not to stutter stupidly.

"Yeah, thanks. I came to see if you'd like to go on a walk?"

Ginny glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was getting late… but the thought of sleep paled in comparison to a walk with Harry.

"Sure," she agreed. She stood up and placed a few last things in her trunk before closing the lid and placing it at the foot of her twin bed. Ginny ran her fingers over the plait her mother had created and admired its silky perfection.

Ginny slid her feet into a pair of trainers and magicked them tied. "If there's anything wizards and witches are good at, it's making spells for anything, even tying your shoes," she joked.

"You're telling me," Harry chuckled. "I can't count the amount of times I've heard Hermione say that wizards are lazy."

"She's not wrong," agreed Ginny. "On the bright side, past wizards' laziness benefits my own laziness."

They walked down the stairs and they didn't see a soul. Where was everyone? She wondered. Maybe off shagging, she thought. Or sleeping. Harry opened the front door for her, allowing Ginny to exit first.

The night was chilly, and Ginny immediately wished that she had grabbed a jacket or put on a jumper before they'd left. She glanced back at the cottage behind her. She could go back in to quickly grab something. She didn't want to leave Harry's side, though. She glanced at him and wondered if he was feeling chilled as well. He had to be, she thought, examining his wiry arms in his t-shirt.

Neither of them said or did anything about it, so Ginny attempted to cast it from her mind, focusing on the feeling of walking in step with Harry.

"We could go walk the beach," he said.

Ginny followed his gaze to the waves rolling in on the shore and agreed readily. The moonlight was reflecting on the surface, creating glimmering ripples of light on the waves. Ginny thought that it resembled stars.

They hiked down the incline, Harry helping her down the steeper bits as he had on their beach day. It was nice to feel cared for, Ginny decided. Even if she could do it herself, it was nice to share the weight with Harry.

"I think I'll take my trainers off if we're walking in the sand," Ginny told him. "Ever tried to get sand out of your trainers? Yuck."

Harry agreed with her, beginning to take his shoes off as well. Ginny tucked her socks inside and took in the feeling of the cold sand seeping between her toes as her weight caused the sand to shift and envelope her feet.

Harry had done the same with his socks, she saw. He was holding his hand out to her, and she took it, a thrill coursing through her at his touch.

She looked down at their hands intertwined as they began to walk, admiring the way his olive-coloured hand looked against her own pale hand. She liked the way his hand shaped around hers, engulfing it. Ginny looked back up into Harry's face and found him examining her.

"What?" she asked.

"Sometimes I just like looking at you," he admitted.

Ginny hoped her blush didn't show in the dark but had a feeling it was bright enough under the light of the moon for Harry to see it. She chastised herself for getting so excited about him looking at her; she had never done all the girly things she'd made fun of girls in books for—blushing, stuttering, heart flutters. She hadn't even reacted like this to Harry when they'd dated the year before. She didn't understand why she was feeling like this now, but she decided to roll with the punches.

"Why's that?" Ginny asked him.

Now it was Harry's turn to look uncomfortable, and Ginny enjoyed watching him squirm. "Er," he began. "Because, erm, you know…"

"Oh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him in confusion—and secret delight.

"You're pleasant to look at," Harry finally spit out.

Ginny bit back a giggle. "Oh, I'm just pleasant to look at?"

Harry's eyes narrowed at her, finally cottoning on. "I'm trying to be sweet here, and here you are pulling one on me."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny giggled. "I can't help it. It's so funny to see you squirm."

"I'll show you squirming," Harry told her, making a grab for her. Ginny tried to turn away, but Harry was too fast, grabbing her sides and tickling her just where he knew she was ticklish.

She couldn't contain herself, laughing like a madwoman as he tortured her with tickles. "Harry," she whined through her laughter. "I can't—take—it," she laughed, legs about to give out under her as she scrunched up in her middle, trying to get away from his hands.

Harry was laughing in delight as he watched her. "How does it feel?" he asked.

"Like I'm being tortured with feathers," she panted out, his hands finally receding. "I guess I see your point."

Merlin, her sides hurt from the laughter, Ginny thought. Even though she was sore from the tickling, there was still a wide smile on Ginny's face as she glanced up at Harry. He was smiling right back at her, and she couldn't stop thinking about how his hand was still on the small of her back.

She bit her lip and leaned up on her tiptoes, reaching as far as she could, lips aimed for Harry's. She wouldn't make it, she realized, having reached the extent of her own height. Luckily, Harry seemed to be on the same page, because he began to lean down towards her. His lips were so warm compared to the air around them, so soft, so… passionate.

And the kiss ended entirely too soon for Ginny's liking. As they pulled away from each other, Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny and pulled her into an embrace, arms wrapped right around her torso. She buried her head in his chest, closing her eyes as she placed her ear against his beating heart. Ginny listened to its rhythm, savouring their moment of quiet and intimacy. Being wrapped in Harry's arms was comforting in a way that Ginny had never before experienced.

Harry detangled himself from her and pulled her hand into his again, lacing their fingers together. "Wanna keep walking?" he asked.

Ginny nodded wordlessly, not trusting herself to speak at the moment.

They continued their walk down the shore and Ginny attempted to take in everything about the moment: the feel of the sand beneath her feet and between her toes, soft and cold and grainy; the sound of the waves crashing over and over again, like a heartbeat; the way Harry's hand felt in hers, soft, warm, protective; and the way the moonlight shone down on everything, bathing them in a romantic, silvery light.

There was so much to digest, so much to commit to her memory, but she would be damned if she forgot a single thing about this walk.

They eventually came to an alcove made of stone that reminded her of their spot on the shore of the Hogwarts lake, where they had hidden away from the prying eyes of the other students. The stone alcove was a bit of an overhang, surrounded by other boulders that hid the entrance. She wouldn't have known it was there if it hadn't been for the trickle of seawater that made its way in with each wave. It created an almost-still pool of water.

How picturesque, she thought, as they glanced at each other with twin looks of excitement. She had a feeling that she and Harry shared the same spirit of adventure and appreciated the fact even more at this moment as they peeked forward and then walked into the alcove.

"This may be a nice place to stop and relax," Ginny hinted.

Harry grinned at her slyly and led her further back. She now realized that it may have been more of a cave than an alcove, what with the way it was hidden from the rest of the beach. Mentally, Ginny shrugged to herself, giving up on the semantics of it all.

"I'm inclined to agree," Harry said, conjuring a beach blanket and a few pillows.

"What a quaint little bed," said Ginny. "It's almost like you've got something planned."

"Me?" Harry asked. "Now you know I never plan anything."

Ginny giggled, thinking of all the unplanned adventures that he, Hermione, and Ron had gone on. "I suppose you're right, after all," she agreed. "But still, this all seems awfully convenient…"

Harry shook his head and fixed the pillows, settling himself down on the blanket. He patted the space next to him and Ginny plopped down next to him and grinned at him, planning her next words carefully. "Boy, you know how to get a girl, Potter. You've got the spot, the pillows, the ocean, romantic moonlight…"

Harry shook his head again. "I swear, it's all coincidence." Then he grinned slyly once again. "It really is a lucky coincidence, though."

"So, you admit you see my point."

He leaned back, gazing upwards for a moment before he looked back to her and shrugged saucily.

Ginny thought about tackling him before she decided to just lean back as well, listening to the waves as she rested her head against the pillow. It was a nice pillow, she thought. Harry was good at conjuring them.

She opened her eyes before she could begin to drift off to sleep, and then Ginny asked him a question that had been nagging at her since she had come to Shell Cottage.

"Why aren't you coming back to Hogwarts to get your NEWTs?"

Harry's eyes opened and immediately met her own gaze earnestly. "I just think I'd like to do something else with my time for a bit," he said after a few quiet moments. "I've spent so much time fighting for my life, clamoring onto any bits I could learn to survive that confrontation with Voldemort… I think I just want some time to myself."

Ginny nodded. "You've always been so unselfish with your life; I can understand why you'd like to make your own decisions before life does."

Harry made a sound of agreement. "Yeah. Plus, I just… Feel my time at Hogwarts has passed. Dumbledore's gone, you know, and it just doesn't feel like home without him."

"Maybe it's time you made your own home, finally, Harry."

He smiled at her softly, a look on his face she hadn't seen in quite a while. Without thinking or worrying about it, Ginny tangled her hand into Harry's already messy hair and tugged him toward her gently.

Like they'd been kissing each other all their lives, they found a rhythm together that reminded Ginny of a song she'd always known but could never name.

Harry's fingers wound their way into Ginny's hair as well, playing with the soft strands and driving Ginny mad with his tugging. She pushed him down further against the sand and wrapped her leg around his hip. Harry groaned against her mouth and bit her lip. There was a pleasure-pain in the bite that made Ginny wriggle against him.

There was a feeling inside of her that she was beginning to associate with Harry—it was a feeling of desire. None of her boyfriends had ever made her so mad with want. Merlin, Ginny thought, his body felt so good against her own.

Ginny nibbled on Harry's neck gently, sucking at his skin, unable to stop herself from a strange desire to mark him as hers. She tried to dismiss the idea as ridiculous, but everything just felt like so much.

"Ginny," Harry whispered hoarsely. "Ginny."

She liked the sound of her name on his lips. "Mmm," she replied, lips meeting his again.

Ginny could feel Harry's smiles against her lips and smiled in return, tugging him so that he would be on top of her now.

Ginny's hips bucked upwards of their own volition, grinding against Harry's hips. He moaned and bucked back. Ginny grabbed his hand and trailed it upwards and under her pajama top and on top of her bra. Harry's hand squeezed her breast and her back arched in pleasure. "Your hand feels so good there, Harry," she told him.

"I think I might keep it here," he joked, voice husky.

She pinched his bum, giving him a calmer kiss on his lips, and then a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"I think I like kissing you," Ginny replied cheekily.

"Is that so?" Harry asked softly.

She nodded, giving him another kiss on the lips and stretching out against him, trying to calm down from the excitement that was still wound up in her belly.

Harry continued to play with her hair softly, helping Ginny relax more. "This is a nice little cave," she told him.

"Hmm… I think it might be an alcove."

She looked at him and laughed.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. You just took the words right out of my mouth is all."

He glanced at her cheekily. "That's not all I'd like to do with your mouth."

Ginny shoved against his shoulder gently and he laid back against the blanket. "We'd probably better get back soon," she told him.

"It is getting late, isn't it?"

She nodded, yawning, and said, "And it's been a long day."

"A big day, too, birthday girl."

She grinned sleepily. "Let's get going."

Harry stood up and held a hand out to her. Ginny took it, glad to feel their hands intertwined.

They made their way back to Shell Cottage, collecting their trainers and socks and wiping the sand off their feet. A cold wind came in off the water, causing gooseflesh to rise on Ginny's skin.

"Brr," Harry said. "I'd give you my jacket if I'd brought it."

"Thank you, for the thought."

He pulled her tight into his side and they hiked back to the house, warmth enveloping them as soon as they closed the front door behind them. Everything was dark besides the fire in the hearth.

"They must be asleep, finally," said Harry.

"They all partied too hard, I guess."

Ginny could feel Harry's silent laugher against her body and grinned up at him. There had been so many years she had seen him where the laughter hadn't been as quick to him as it was now, and the smiles were forced, or sad, or altogether nonexistent. Harry's mirth reminded her that they were all finally able to live and heal. Maybe this was what her mum had meant when she'd been talking about an even bigger picture puzzle.

Harry led her up to her room, and outside the door he gave her a gentle kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow, birthday-girl."

Ginny, Merlin help her, blushed. Then she smiled and glanced at the clock on the wall. "No longer birthday girl," she whispered, pointing at the time.

Harry grinned. "Well, I guess no more kisses for you," he whispered back.

"I take it back," Ginny replied. "It's my birthday every day from now on."

Harry kissed her again, this time hard and passionate. Ginny's brain lit up like fireworks were going off inside her mind and all she felt were Harry's lips and hands.

They pulled apart, each smiling stupidly at the other. "Goodnight, Harry," Ginny said, hand already twisting the doorknob.

"Goodnight, Gin," he whispered, turning down the hallway to his own room.

Ginny closed the door behind her, feeling as if she were floating on air. She leaned against the closed door for a moment, replaying every moment of her walk with Harry, eyes closed and a smile on her face.

"Good night?"

Ginny jumped and opened her eyes to find Hermione sitting up in her camp bed, a Cheshire Cat-like grin on her face.

"You could say that," Ginny replied.

"How's Harry?"

Ginny shrugged, playing coy. "He's fine, probably."

"Oh?"

"Er, yeah."

Ginny walked to her bed, trying not to look at Hermione as she did so. She knew if she did that Hermione would still have that big, stupid grin on her face that said she knew exactly what Ginny and Harry had been up to together.

"I already told you I wouldn't say anything to anyone else," Hermione pressed.

It would be nice, Ginny thought, still not looking at Hermione, to have someone to confide in.

And so, as Ginny sat down on her bed, she caved in and began to tell Hermione everything.

The next day began a daily routine that Ginny was hard-pressed to complain about. Bill and Fleur would make breakfast, go to work, and then George would head into the shop. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny would all do some group activity and then Ron and Hermione would sneak off for some alone time, leaving Harry and Ginny together themselves.

Some of Ginny's favourite moments happened when everyone had left she and Harry alone, and they would bask in each other's arms, kiss for hours, and explore each other's bodies.

They spent a great deal of their time at their cave, as they had dubbed it. It was away from the prying eyes of anyone who might accidentally happen upon them in the cottage, and both Harry and Ginny enjoyed the sound of the waves in the background as they would lie down and talk about anything and everything.

Harry told her things he had spoken to her about before—silly things and serious things, both. Ginny told him things she hadn't felt comfortable divulging to anyone about the Chamber, about Tom Riddle, about childhood memories and fights with her brothers.

Something she had come to learn about Harry was that he always understood, no matter what she told him. She could tell him about her nightmares, and he would tell her about his. It was a strange intimacy she had never known could even exist.

Ginny couldn't shake the feeling that another shoe would soon drop, even as she and Harry burrowed further into each other's embrace. She wasn't sure what could possibly be coming after everything they had endured, but still the feeling haunted her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter ahead gets a tad smutty. If you're not comfortable with such scenes, avert your eyes as needed. There's also a bit more tension in this chapter than in previous ones, as we are nearing the end of our little story!

Around a week after Ginny's birthday, the Hogwarts letters arrived for she and Hermione. They were all sitting around the breakfast table, Bill, Fleur, and George in the midst of readying themselves for work. Ginny had been idly stirring her porridge, contemplating whether she could get away with teasing Harry underneath the table.

"Oh, here are the Hogwarts letters," Bill announced as the tawny owls came bearing the Hogwarts crest. "Mum's been badgering me about these, worrying that your change in location confused the school."

"It never has before," Hermione said.

Bill shrugged. "They are quite late this year. Doesn't leave much time for shopping, but that's alright. We'll all go tomorrow."

"Eet will be a mad 'ouse," Fleur told her husband. "Eef everyone ees getting their letters today, too."

"You're right," Bill said. "You lot are all adults, I suppose. Mum would probably kill me for saying this, but would you be alright going today?"

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other, each smiling widely. "That should be fine," Ginny said carefully, hoping she didn't appear too eager and already imagining the fun she and Harry would have wandering Diagon Alley.

"Alright, it's settled," announced Bill dramatically. "You'll all follow George into Diagon Alley and do your school shopping. I know you're adults, but if you could just check in with George before you head home, I know it'll help Mum later."

They nodded appropriately, excitement mounting in the room. Ginny thought of eating ice cream with Harry at Florean Fortescue's, before she remembered that Florean Fortescue had never been found after the war.

Ginny felt a chill run up her arms, despite the fact that it was an unusually warm morning on the coast. Would anything ever be the same again? She wondered. There were so many people that they would never know what exactly happened to them, and she wondered if that might be worse than the knowing for their loved ones. She at least knew how Fred had gone—fighting—but those who had vanished had simply disappeared, never to be seen or heard again.

She had a sudden fear for what Diagon Alley might be like now, and what the war had done to change it. Ginny could still vividly remember the way that Diagon Alley had so drastically changed from before their break-in at the Ministry and after, when Tom Riddle had been proven to be back.

She prayed that the fear that had been palpable then was now gone, but Ginny knew that she herself was still scared—could she expect others to be ready to completely be over their own traumatic experiences?

Nevertheless, she shoveled the rest of her porridge in her mouth and rushed to get ready. Knowing it would be much warmer in London than in Cornwall, Ginny picked out a lightweight set of robes and donned a pair of shorts and a vest top underneath. If she was an adult, officially, she reasoned with herself, maybe she would start dressing as such.

She met the others downstairs.

"I was about to send out a search party," George told her.

"It takes time to look this good," Ginny retorted. "I know you have no practice in that, Georgie…"

"Some of us have a natural gift for beauty," George replied.

Ginny laughed, glad to see him joking with her. "Okay, you're right," she agreed, perhaps too quickly, she realized, when she saw George's face. Well, there was nothing to be done for it, Ginny thought. "Are we going to Diagon Alley, or not?" she asked, trying to deflect.

"Yeah!" Ron said. "Let's go already!"

Maybe they'd all been cooped up too long.

They all exited through the floo network, Ginny wincing as Harry crash landed in George's shop.

"I really fucking hate the floo," Harry said, rubbing his bum tenderly.

Hermione just shook her head at him and grabbed Ron's hand, leading him toward a newer line of products. Ginny sidled up to Harry, casting a look about to make sure no one was minding them, before she asked, "Want me to kiss it better?"

Harry's face reddened and he grinned sheepishly. "Maybe later," he suggested. "I'll let you know if I'm still in pain."

"Oh, I can almost bet you will be."

She pinched him lightly before pulling away from him innocently. "So where are we going first?"

Their trip to Diagon Alley was relatively uneventful. There had been a handful of their schoolmates that they had run into, but everything had been quiet. Ginny realized that the war did indeed leave a scar on the alley, as people were still avoiding lingering outside the shops. Ginny also thought there should be more places for witches and wizards to gather, like they'd been able to do at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Sadly, there was nothing for her to do about it, as she still had another year of school, and she had no skill in ice cream magic.

When they returned to Shell Cottage, Ron and Hermione immediately set off by themselves, to, as they had told Harry and Ginny, "Put away their bags."

Ginny knew the truth, and she was certain that Harry was not fooled, either.

"While they're preoccupied, would you like to take a walk down the beach?" This had become their way of asking if the other wanted to visit their cave.

"Could do," Ginny said. "I think I fancy a brisk walk and the sea breeze."

Harry smiled at her, and she wasn't sure, but she could have sworn there was something behind his smile that she didn't quite like.

Harry helped her down the steep incline like usual, taking her hand in his once they reached the bottom and began to walk down the shore. Ginny looked at the waves, cobalt blue until they turned white and turned to seafoam on the shore. It was amazing, how they were this magnificent force by themselves, and then turned to basically nothing on the edges, disappearing into the sand.

The sky was turning grey in the early evening light and Ginny had a feeling they'd have rain rather than a sunset in a few hours.

When they arrived at their cave, Harry immediately conjured a blanket and pillows. Ginny sat down on them softly, hugging one of the pillows to her chest. Something had seemed strange about him for a good portion of the day, and it was setting Ginny on edge.

Was this the end? She wondered. Was this the second time he'd be breaking things off with her? Why would he do that? Her mind was spinning in overdrive, trying to logic out her anxieties and what could be causing Harry to act the way he'd been since the Hogwarts letters had arrived.

Finally, Ginny asked, "What's going on?"

Harry's green eyes were unreadable to her suddenly. She usually could read him so well, she thought. She'd been able to read exactly what he'd been about to do at Professor Dumbledore's funeral, and she had always been able to tell when Harry was up to some sort of mischief, or when he was brooding stupidly, and she needed to set him straight. But now, she wasn't sure what he was feeling, or thinking.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked again.

He was looking at her, face pale, lips tight. "How are we going to make things work while you're at school?" he finally asked her.

"We can just do what we've been doing. Seeing each other when we can, meeting up on Hogsmeade weekends, writing each other…"

Harry shook his head, lips still set and flat. "But I won't be about in the wizarding world," he told her. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts, and I'm not taking the job the Aurors offered me, either. I'll be out in the Muggle world, doing Merlin-knows-what."

Ginny bit her lip, squeezing the pillow even harder into her chest. "So, are you saying you don't even want to make a go of it?"

Harry shrugged eyes dull behind his glasses. He ran a hand through his already-disheveled hair. "I'd like to. I feel like you're the only one who really understands me… but I also just want to get away from the wizarding world for a while."

"So, being with me would be an inconvenience for you, is that it?" Ginny asked, voice getting sharper. She refused to be put out by Harry—again.

"No, Gin. Look, I'm saying this all wrong. I really like you, and I want to be with you, to shout my feelings from the rooftop. But I also just think I'd like to take a little bit of time…"

Ginny felt herself softening towards him, thinking of all that Harry had sacrificed for the wizarding world, and all that he had endured before even getting his NEWTs. Nothing in his life had ever been fair, and everything he had ever done had been for everyone else but Harry himself. She suddenly understood what he was getting at—why he wanted to escape for a little while.

Without making a conscious decision about it, Ginny's lips sought Harry's, covering them with her own. Her brain seemed to short-circuit, as usual, when Harry kissed her back. Their kiss started out slowly, softly, but gained traction as Harry threaded his hand into Ginny's hair.

His tongue slid along her lips and she opened them in response, meeting his tongue with her own, lightly teasing it. He moaned in response and she grinned briefly before she tore her mouth from his and planted it on his neck, suckling and nibbling on it, taking great joy in his gasps. Ginny felt him hardening against her and couldn't help but wriggle against his erection.

"Gin," Harry ground out, voice husky and deep. She decided she liked the way Harry said her name when he was so turned on.

Boldly, she placed her palm on his hardness, observing how he felt through his trousers and wanting to take his velvety member into her hand. "Can I touch you?" she asked, barely recognizing her own voice.

"Yes, please," Harry basically pleaded.

Ginny looked at him through her lashes as she helped Harry pull his trousers down and off his ankles.

He was standing at full attention for her. She liked it, she decided, as she placed her hand around his length, rubbing it up and down briefly before she bobbed forward and licked him up and down. Harry groaned, and feeling victorious and brave, Ginny enveloped him wholly in her mouth.

Harry's hands were doing some wandering of their own, playing with the hem of her robes. Ginny began to feel impatient and discarded them altogether, relieved to feel Harry's hand immediately up her blouse and palming her through her bra.

"Please touch me, Harry," she whined, wanting to feel his bare skin on her own.

He didn't argue, hand tunneling under her bra and tweaking her nipple gently. Ginny moaned, grinding her hips down against Harry's thigh, needing the friction.

Ginny pulled away from Harry's member, admiring the way it glistened with his pre-cum. "I want to try something," she told him.

He nodded, eyes clouded over, pupils dilated.

She repositioned herself so that her center was positioned over Harry's, and said, "Could you help me out of my shorts?"

Harry nodded again eagerly, helping her to pull her shorts down her legs. He threw them somewhere, but she didn't know—or care—where they ended up. Leaning forward, Ginny kissed him heatedly, lowering herself to grind herself on his hard-on.

"Your knickers are so soaked," Harry told her.

"All for you," she said throatily.

He moaned again, hips bucking up against her center.

"Fuck, Harry, that feels so good," whispered Ginny.

He bucked again and she ground down against him, getting wetter and more turned on by the second.

Harry trailed his hands up her belly, sending shivers down her spine as he pulled her blouse and bra off of her. He squeezed her breasts, jolts traveling straight to her center.

"Oh, Harry," she whined. She couldn't think of anything but the feelings he was eliciting within her, and the way his body felt in her hands. She wanted more of him—all of him, and she told him so.

"Are you sure?" Harry whispered.

"Yes," she affirmed.

"I've never—" he told her.

"Me neither," said Ginny. "But please, Harry, I want to feel you fully…"

"Alright," he told her, pupils dilating even more than Ginny had thought possible. She pulled her knickers down her legs and rubbed herself over his cock again, relishing how hard he felt in between her folds.

Harry groaned and said, "Are you ready?"

She nodded hazily and Harry flipped them over so that he was on top of her. He spread her creamy legs, taking time to kiss each of them three times, closer and closer to her center each time. Ginny felt something tighten in her belly with his kisses, and then, he grabbed his cock, rubbed himself up and down a few times, before he guided himself into her opening.

Ginny gasped at the feeling. It was nothing like she'd ever felt before—she'd have thought it would feel like his fingers, but it was entirely different. And oh-so filling. It made her feel… complete.

"You alright?" he asked.

She nodded, adjusting to the way he felt inside her. "You can move, if you want, Harry."

As if he'd been waiting to hear it all his life, he began to thrust gently in and out of her. Each thrust put Ginny closer to the edge, the coil in her belly tightening more and more and… with another thrust, Harry hit something within her that made her see stars. Her legs quivered around his hips, her core pulsating around him as her back arched off of the blanket and into Harry's chest.

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry and murmured something unintelligible as Harry thrust one last time and twitched within her. He grunted, eyes closing for a moment as Ginny felt a warm, sticky liquid filling her. Finally coming down from her own orgasm, she watched Harry's face as he came, trying to memorize everything about it.

His glasses were falling askew, and she fixed them gently and ran her hand through his hair as his body relaxed and he fell down onto the ground beside her. He pulled her into his body and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder.

"That was…" Harry began.

"Amazing," Ginny finished, smiling at him, high on hormones and emotion.

He nodded sleepily against her shoulder. "Nap?" he asked.

"Yeah," she agreed. She snuggled into his body, getting comfortable in his arms, entangling her legs with his.

When Ginny woke up, she wasn't sure what time it was. She was covered in sand, though, and other things, as well, that she and Harry had neglected to clean before they'd fallen asleep together. She looked at Harry and saw that he was still sleeping peacefully, glasses thrown to the side. She smiled, disentangling her legs from his, and running a hand along his face softly, memorizing the way his skin felt against her hand.

Ginny grabbed her wand from nearby and did a few freshening charms on herself and Harry, before she collected her clothing and put it all back on. Wandering to the opening of their cave, she looked and saw that the sky was beginning to darken with sunset.

Strange—she really had thought it would rain instead. But who was she to look a gift Unicorn in the mouth? Judging by the sky, she figured she'd better wake Harry and they'd need to find their way back to the cottage. It wouldn't do to go missing—not so soon after the war, at any rate.

She realized now that the blanket Harry had conjured when they'd first arrived a few hours earlier had vanished back to wherever it had come from. Well, that explained the sand. She'd need a deep clean later to get it out of places she'd never had it before. Ick, she thought.

"Harry." She whispered softly. He didn't budge and she wondered if he'd been sleeping well at night the last few days. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and softly shook it.

"Whassit? Wha's goin' on?" Harry asked.

Ginny bit back a giggle. "It's getting dark out and we need to get back to Shell Cottage before anyone notices we've been gone too long," she told him.

He relaxed a little and nodded, looking more awake once he grabbed his glasses. "Where are my clothes?" he asked.

"They're in a pile over there," Ginny told him.

Harry summoned his clothing to him lazily before he pulled on his shirt and then his pants and trousers. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I left my watch back in my room, but it's sunset."

"Merlin, we must have missed dinner," Harry swore. "If they haven't called the cavalry yet, I'll be surprised."

Ginny nodded. "I know. We'd better get going."

As they came out of their cave, Ginny noted that the sun had only just started its descent towards the horizon, the pinks and purples and oranges of the sunset still pale, instead of blazing. "I hope there are leftovers from supper," Ginny told him. "I think we worked up quite an appetite."

Harry chuckled. "I know we did. What shall we do if there's nothing left?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't think there's any takeout anywhere nearby. Though, if we have a Leaky Cauldron catalogue, we could owl-order something with warming charms from London."

"With how long it would take the owls to get here, we may as well just cook something ourselves, or Apparate somewhere" Harry reasoned. "Hopefully, it won't come to that."

Ginny giggled for a moment, wondering what Harry's cooking skills must be like.

"What's our cover story?" she finally asked as her giggles subsided.

"Cover story?"

"You know—for why we were missing for hours after they got home."

"Oh," Harry said, a strange look on his face. "Erm, we could say we walked to town and got lost on the way back."

"That sounds good," Ginny agreed. They hurried their pace and soon were back at Shell Cottage. Every light in the house was on, blazing into the growing twilight. Ginny could see Ron and Hermione washing dishes in the kitchen and knew immediately that they had indeed missed dinner.

She readied herself to lie her pants off, hoping Harry would stand up to the scrutiny as well.

She opened the front door, realizing for the first time that it had grown chilly out as she walked into the warm house. She heard the sound of the fireplace crackling and the water running in the sink as they washed the dishes the Muggle way. She could hear the sounds of a Wizard's Chess game in the living room.

Taking the cowards way out, Ginny went into the kitchen first.

"There you are, Ginny!" Ron immediately greeted. "Where did you to get off to?"

Ginny winced. "We took a walk into town."

"You missed supper," Hermione informed her.

"We figured," Ginny said, realizing that Harry wasn't by her side. Where had he gone so quickly? "Anything left over?"

"Just enough for each of you to have a plate," Ron said, nodding at the table. Sitting there were two plates that were still steaming warm.

"Thanks," Ginny said, digging in the silverware drawer for a fork. "I'm starving!"

"You didn't eat in town?" Hermione asked knowingly. "You were gone an awfully long time."

Ginny glared at her. "No, we got lost on the way home."

Hermione winked at her and Ginny infuriated herself by flushing hotly. She looked down, hoping no one would notice as she took a bite of what turned out to be lamb. "Yum," she said. "Merlin, I love a good shepherd's pie."

"Fleur made it in honour of our Hogwarts letters arriving," Hermione said.

"Damn," Ginny said. "I'll have to thank her. This is almost as good as Mum's!" she said, turning to Ron.

"I think she borrowed the recipe from Mum, actually."

"Wow, Fleur must be growing on Mum, finally," Ginny commented. "She usually won't share her recipes with anyone."

"It doesn't help that she doesn't exactly know exact measurements for what she uses," Ron told her. "It's hard to share recipes when you change it about every single time you cook it."

Ginny nodded around another mouthful. "Iz's jus' so goob," she said.

"You Weasleys and your table manners," Hermione sniffed, before sending a grin Ginny's way.

Ginny knew that the older witch was only teasing her, so she didn't take the comment to heart as she swallowed her bite. "When you grow up with so many brothers, you learn to eat as quickly as they do, or else you don't eat," Ginny shrugged. "I've done what I can to survive."

Hermione laughed. "I imagine you must have."

Ginny took another bite, this time of the roasted carrots on the side. Soon, her whole meal was finished, and she was once again wondering where Harry had gotten to. She supposed, after a few moments of thought, that it might not be any of her business. They had had that talk, and then they had gotten carried away without having come to any sort of conclusion…

Maybe it would be better this way, she reasoned with herself as she rinsed her plate. Harry didn't owe her anything and she wanted to enjoy what time she could with him. She would be going back to Hogwarts within another two weeks, and Harry would be out in the Muggle world, alone, doing Merlin-knows-what.

Ginny left Harry's plate on the table, steam still billowing magically from it, and made a point to find Fleur before she went up to shower.

Fleur was sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, a book in her hand as she stared into the flames.

"Hey, Fleur," Ginny greeted, watching as her brother's wife, her sister, turned to look at her. Ginny couldn't read the look on her beautiful face, and so she continued, "I wanted to thank you for supper. It was really delicious."

"Thank you, Ginny," Fleur smiled. "I am glad you liked eet."

Ginny nodded, and though she'd had plans to slink up the stairs to a bath and her room, she took a seat next to Fleur on the sofa. "Thank you for making it. Shepherd's pie is my favourite."

Fleur nodded again. " _Oui,_ Bill told me that you liked eet, so I thought I would make eet for you."

Ginny didn't know what to say back. She hadn't spoken much to Fleur since she had been staying in her home and realized that she would like to get to know her more. She had been living in some sort of bubble with Harry since her birthday, and before that she hadn't spoken much to anyone. Maybe Fleur was still sitting in that same feeling.

"How have you been?" she asked Fleur.

"Good, thank you." Fleur didn't elaborate, continuing to stare into the fire.

"Thank you for being with my brother," Ginny finally said after moments of silence. "I don't think I can express how happy you make him."

Fleur turned to look at her, a smile brightening her face—Ginny realized she hadn't seen that smile in a long while. Perhaps this whole summer it had been absent. It was that smile that had infuriated her just two summers ago—it was filled with Veela charm and something else. What Ginny had never realized until this very moment was that it had been filled with happiness. Bill made Fleur just as happy as she made him.

"'E makes me 'appy, too," Fleur said, echoing Ginny's thoughts.

"I couldn't ask for a better sister," Ginny told Fleur. "We're all lucky to have you in our family."

Fleur smiled again, eyes swimming with emotion. Ginny didn't know why she had felt the need to tell Fleur these things, but she was glad she had as she looked at Fleur's face.

"If you're going to be up reading for a while," Ginny said, "I'll be back down in a little while and will read with you."

Fleur smiled. "Yes, I think so. I weel be 'ere."

Ginny nodded and stood up, stretching as she did so. As she walked up the stairs towards her bedroom, she thought of how the war had changed them all. She didn't know if they were any better for it, but it was their reality. She grabbed a pair of pajamas and a towel as she went to the bathroom.

Running the tap with warm, steaming water, Ginny sank into the cold tub, allowing herself to fill the chill of the porcelain as the hot water began to envelope her. She sat back against the edge for a moment. She had always enjoyed a good, thoughtful soak. When the water was up to her chest, Ginny turned off the tap and closed her eyes, remembering the afternoon she had spent with Harry in their cave.

It had been, as cliché as it may have been to say, magical. Not just the sex, of course, though she had enjoyed that a great deal (more than she would have expected for her first time. It hadn't hurt like everyone had said it would), but just spending that time with Harry.

They didn't always need words around each other—they could sit in silence and just be there in the moment, together. She didn't know what would become of them when she went back to Hogwarts, and didn't want to even think of it, but knew she'd have to face it eventually. It was silly to be afraid of the moment looming ahead of them, after everything they had faced, but Ginny was afraid.

As she scrubbed at her body, frenetically planning and playing a game of 'what-if,' she came to a decision. Pulling the drain plug, Ginny stood up and stepped onto the bathmat, wrapping herself in a fluffy towel. No, she wouldn't let herself be devastated by whatever happened with Harry, no matter how much she cared for him and wanted a life with him. After all, they were only seventeen and eighteen—they had their whole lives before them, now. She would do what she'd always done if he needed his time: she would go about her life and live.

Ginny grabbed her pajamas that she'd gathered before her bath and put them on, and then pulled a dressing robe on as well. The house got drafty sometimes at night, even in front of the fire. She hung her towel on the rack and fetched her pirate romance book that she'd been skiving off reading in favour of spending time with Harry.

She made her way down to the sitting room again and found that Fleur had fallen asleep curled up on the couch, book still in her hands. Ginny looked at Bill, who by the looks of it, was almost done trouncing George at chess. Ginny sat carefully on the sofa next to Fleur's sleeping form and watching her sister-in-law breathe in and out deeply for a few moments before she turned her gaze back to her older brothers. Bill and George were trash-talking each other, even as Bill took George's queen.

Ginny sat enjoying the moment and the peace. Every happy moment reminded her of all they had suffered and why they had each fought in their own way against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. They wouldn't have this quiet if the Dark Lord. were still around, terrorizing them all. She smiled at her brothers and said, "I play loser."

Bill shook his head. "You ready to play against this tosser?"

Ginny chuckled. "I'm always ready to beat any of you gits," she told them. "I'll wipe the board clean with you, Georgie."

George shook his head, shaggy hair swaying with the movement. "No way, Ginny-kins. You can't beat this."

"Watch me, arsehole," she told him. She could trash-talk with the best of them—she was a Weasley, after all, and the only girl, to boot.

She took Bill's place, watching as he took the book from his wife's hands and placed it on the side-table before he picked her up in his arms. "Goodnight, all."

"Goodnight, Bill," Ginny and George chorused.

As soon as they could hear Bill and Fleur's bedroom door close, Ginny and George began their game.

The game lasted what felt like ages for Ginny, and she seemed to at least be winning the war against tiredness compared to George, who had not had the benefit of a long midday nap.

She took advantage of one of his tired mistakes. "Unforced error," she told him, grinning.

He scowled at her and took one of her pawns.

On it went, until finally, George said, "Oi, you can have my queen this time. I'm too tired to keep playing."

"Oh, but Georgie, the victory is no fun when you admit defeat before I've properly trounced you."

"Fuck it," he said. "Sleep seems more important right now. But I'll get you tomorrow—you can bet your life."

"You've got it," said Ginny. "I'll meet you back here before your bedtime, you old codger."

George just chuckled. "Merlin, what on earth did we teach you growing up? You're meaner than all of us combined."

"It's my job as the only girl," Ginny shrugged, getting up and stretching from her seat. "Thanks for playing, George."

He smiled at her, smile not reaching his eyes quite all the way. "Of course. I'll take any opportunity I can to beat any of you."

"Or any opportunity to lose," she reminded him playfully. "Sleep tight, Georgie. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

"Night, Ginny. Don't you be staying up too late."

"Me?" Ginny asked innocently. "Never!"

He waved at her as he walked up the stairs and Ginny settled herself back on the sofa with her book, glad to have had some time with George.

She opened her book and began to read, whisked away to the high seas. A few chapters later, when the house was dark in every room but the sitting room, she heard a clatter from the kitchen and sprung up, book thrown to the side, wand drawn from her dressing robe pocket.

Stealthily, Ginny walked towards the source of the noise, wand at the ready for whoever or whatever had invaded Shell Cottage. Heart pounding, she cracked the kitchen door open and peered inside. Someone was digging about in the icebox. What the hell? She thought.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked boldly.

The invader turned about in a flash; their wand was drawn more quickly than she'd have expected. A curse was ready on Ginny's lips, until she saw that it was only Harry who had been raiding the kitchen.

"Hungry, are you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned at her somewhat awkwardly, cheeks stuffed full of something. "Yeff," he said.

"Did you learn your eating habits from us?" she couldn't help but ask.

Harry swallowed his food with a large gulp. "Well, when you need food…"

She nodded at him. "You did miss supper," she said. "It's no wonder you're down here in the middle of the night. You could have eaten with me when we got back." Maybe her words were a little more bitter sounding than she'd meant them to be.

"I didn't think you wanted to be seen with me," Harry replied in a bullish tone of voice she'd come to recognize well.

"I never said that."

"You might as well have."

"I thought you didn't want to be seen with me," she replied. "Didn't want to put another commitment on you."

"I don't mind commitment," Harry argued.

She raised an eyebrow. "You're trying to leave the wizarding world and aren't even getting your NEWTs. You've got no concrete plan."

"Merlin, you sound like Hermione right now," he complained. "That doesn't mean I don't want to commit to you."

She moved closer to Harry as if he were a magnet. "Are you sure about that?" she whispered.

Harry stared into her eyes silently, and then his lips met hers.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Ginny woke up on the sofa, wrapped in a warm pair of arms. She noticed that the fire had turned to embers and turned around to look at Harry, who was still asleep. He looked so innocent and youthful, she thought, with his face all relaxed in sleep.

Ginny wished she could stay in this moment forever, but knew they'd have to get up and return to their beds. "Harry," she said, shaking him gently.

"Hmm?" he asked through closed lips, eyes still not open. Ginny smiled. "We've got to get up," she said. "Before anyone comes down and sees us."

"So wha'?" Harry asked sleepily.

"Is this how you want them to find out about us?" she asked.

Harry muttered something unintelligible and Ginny resorted to what she'd had to do for many of her brothers when they'd refused to wake up. She got off the sofa, grabbed hold of his hand, and gave a tug with her whole weight. Harry didn't budge, except that he was closer to the edge of the sofa. She gave another tug and now he was hanging halfway off the sofa, eyes still closed.

"Bloody hell," she cursed. "Harry, I'm going to leave you here, then."

Harry grumbled something Ginny couldn't understand, and she threw her arms up in exasperation. "Suit yourself," she whisper-shouted. "I'll be in my own bed."

As she was walking up the stairs she ran into someone, quite literally, as she'd been focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and not tripping over a stair.

"Good morning, Ginny," Fleur smiled at her.

"Morning," Ginny mumbled.

"Back to bed?"

Ginny just nodded and waved at her sister-in-law as she stepped around her and made her way to her room, opening the door and burrowing under the quilt on her bed.

She tossed and turned for a bit before she was finally able to drift into a fitful sleep.

When she arose, Ginny was determined to enjoy her day and to do her best to prepare for Hogwarts. The sun looked rather high in the sky from her bedroom window and Ginny wondered how long her lie-in had lasted.

She decided she'd have herself a relaxing beach day, even if she was the only one who went down to the shore. She grabbed her swimming costume and pulled it on, layering it under a flowy sundress that she knew would drive Harry crazy.

She messily plaited her hair and headed downstairs to find Hermione sitting at the kitchen with a book and a cup of tea.

"Where is everyone?" Ginny asked.

Hermione glanced up from her book. "Hmm, I'm not sure. I know that Bill and Fleur are out in the garden, tending the veg. I'm not sure, though, where the rest of the boys are."

"And here I thought that you and Ron had become joined at the hips," Ginny smirked at the older witch.

Hermione gave her a wry smile and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, Ron and I are joined at the hips? What about you and Harry, sneaking off for hours doing Merlin-knows-what?"

Ginny blushed lightly and bit her lip. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, you don't," Hermione said, smiling slyly. Her face then turned serious. "You're being safe, right?"

Ginny gulped and blushed again. "Yeah. I'm on the potion."

Hermione nodded and said, "Good. We don't need any little Hinnies running about quite yet."

Ginny's blush deepened. "Any _what_?"

"Hinnies. Like your couple name?"

"Is that even a thing?" Ginny asked incredulously.

Hermione shrugged. "It may just be a Muggle thing, now that I think about it. But think about it—the name will grow on you."

Ginny wasn't sure she agreed, but didn't argue—aloud, at least.

She began to prepare herself a cup of tea, letting it steep for a few minutes while she sat silently, and Hermione read her book. When the tea was done, Ginny, still in deep thought, stirred the milk and sugar in, replaying the events of the day before in her mind.

She and Harry, bodies intertwined… And Harry, not staying in the wizarding world while she'd be going back to Hogwarts. Merlin, in a week's time, she'd be on the Hogwarts Express, going back to the school that still haunted her most nights. If she closed her eyes, she could still remember the detentions she'd faced with the Carrows, and the Dark Arts classes they'd held in the dungeons—she could still remember older students being forced to practice Unforgivable Curses and other dark magics on the younger students. A shudder ran through her body as Ginny tried to fight the images off. She looked around the room, almost unconsciously, making sure that everyone was secure and there was no one but her family about.

"Are you alright, Ginny?" Hermione broke up Ginny's thoughts.

Pulled back to the present, Ginny felt another shudder travel through her, finally able to push the images away. The nasty feeling remained within her, however, and she couldn't help but glance at the scar on Hermione's arm from Malfoy Manor.

"Yeah," Ginny lied, remembering her talk with her mum on her birthday. Eventually, everything would make sense again, Ginny told herself.

Hermione's gaze was too knowing for Ginny's liking, but she pushed down her instinct to avoid her discomfort, and said to Hermione, "I was just thinking about going back to Hogwarts."

Hermione fiddled with a piece of her own hair as she lowered her book down to the table. "Will it be hard for you to go back?"

"I'm not sure," said Ginny honestly. "Last year was, well, Hell on Earth there, but the logical part of my brain knows that it won't be that same way next year."

"But it's not always the logical brain in charge," Hermione said.

"I'm scared," Ginny admitted. "I know it's irrational, as Professor McGonagall will be the new headmistress, and the Death Eaters are gone from the school, but there's a part of me that learned to be careful there and I'm not sure it'll ever go away."

"I've been reading some books on posttraumatic stress syndrome after living through a war," Hermione said. "And a lot of it is working to actively re-train your brain to live outside of a war zone. Muggles have mind-healers called psychologists who help with that sort of thing…"

"I think we have some mind-healers who help people," Ginny said. "But I'm not really sure how any of that works."

Hermione shrugged, also looking confused. "I might do more research. I wouldn't be surprised if there were more mind-healers after all this is done."

"Isn't it done already?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked at her like she knew Ginny already knew the answer to her own question.

They probably would never be done with all of this. The scars that Tom Riddle had left in the wizarding world ran deeper than just a shattered economy and Ministry, and Ginny had seen it all in action in the last year. They had allowed his poisoned words to fester after the first war, and they all had suffered the consequences. Ginny bit her lip, panic beginning to rise within her again. _Breathe, Ginny,_ she told herself. _One, in, two, out, three, in…_

She focused on the feeling of the warmth of the tea in her hands and the distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore, fighting off the images and sounds of all she had lived through and seen. Neville, being held under the Cruciatus by one of the Slytherins, twitching on the floor, teeth grit and eyes full of anger and determination— _breathe_ , Ginny told herself again.

Hermione looked like she was reliving her own memories and Ginny didn't want to imagine what Hermione had survived last year when she, Ron, and Harry had been on the run. They still had never told her what they'd been searching for, and maybe none of them ever would. She understood. She had secrets she wanted to keep buried deep within herself as well. Some things she'd seen or done that she didn't want to ever admit aloud.

She finished her cup of tea. "I'm going down to the beach in a bit, if you'd like to join me," Ginny told the other girl. "I'm packing some sandwiches and a few books, as well as some firewhiskey."

"Going to be doing any swimming?" Hermione asked.

Ginny noted that Hermione's skin had tanned quite nicely compared to her own fair skin and said, "Yeah. I need more sun."

Hermione chuckled. "You know you'll only get more freckles."

Ginny shrugged. "A girl's gotta try. I want a tan like yours."

"It's overrated," Hermione waved off the compliment. "Tanning leads to skin cancer…"

Ginny looked at her blankly and Hermione said, "It's a Muggle disease."

Ginny bit back a comment about Muggles and their strange afflictions, thinking better of it, as ignorant comments like that were what allowed them to have so many misconceptions about blood and Muggles in general. She made a note to herself to be more cognizant of making those types of comments and thoughts.

"Maybe if I get enough freckles, they'll magically morph into a tan," Ginny mused. "Think that's possible?"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "I guess the only way to know for sure is to try."

The two girls continued to talk as they put their breakfast things away. As Hermione went upstairs to put on her swimming costume, Ginny took a seat at the table and thought about the day before some more. She had thought it all to death already, but she just wasn't sure that she and Harry weren't dancing around something neither of them wanted to face.

She'd be leaving for Hogwarts soon… without him.

And he'd be doing, well, whatever it was, as well… without her.

She knew they hadn't really developed anything deep, had barely even talked like they once had. They'd been wrapped up in their lust, wrapped up in the newness of their reunion. Ginny bit her lip, wondering what there was to even do about the situation, when Hermione came down the stairs again.

"Ready?" Hermione asked her.

"Yeah," Ginny said, swallowing thickly and smiling at the older witch.

They grabbed the sandwiches they'd made and the bottle of firewhiskey that had been sitting in the icebox, and Ginny conjured a beach bag for them to bring it all along.

"This'll be fun," Ginny said.

Hermione nodded, making sure to grab the book she'd been reading as they headed out the door.

As they stepped outside, they heard loud yells of joy from the direction of the beach. Ginny and Hermione looked at each other in confusion and hurried in the direction they'd already been headed. What they found was Ron, Harry, and George chasing each other about on their brooms, flying lowly over the sand and waves.

"Is that really wise?" Hermione called out to the boys.

The boys all turned to look at them, dismounting their brooms easily, landing in the sand gently.

"We set up some Muggle-Repelling wards," Ron told them. "Promise!"

Hermione was looking between them all, and Ginny wondered if she was trying to divine whether the boys were lying. They must have passed some sort of test, because Hermione said, "Oh, alright."

Ron whooped loudly and jumped back onto his Cleansweep. George followed suit, but Harry stayed grounded and Ginny eyed him in confusion.

"I could do with a bit of a break," he explained.

Hermione caught Ginny's eye and gave her a knowing look (Merlin, Hermione did that too often), and Ginny said, "If you're thirsty from the workout, I've brought firewhiskey."

Harry spluttered for a moment. "Oh, is that meant to refresh me?"

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe… or we can think of another way to make you feel refreshed." She raised an eyebrow at him.

He spluttered again and his mouth moved wordlessly.

Ginny smirked. "Have some firewhiskey with us."

Harry nodded somewhat dumbly and followed Ginny to where Hermione was laying out the beach blankets. Ginny set the beach bag down on the sand next to the blanket and fished out the firewhiskey and the lime-flavoured juice Hermione had insisted they bring along.

"Did you bring any cups?" Harry asked.

Both girls shook their heads and Harry began to conjure enough cups for all of them.

He handed Hermione hers, and when he handed one to Ginny, his fingers lingered a moment longer than was probably necessary, leaving Ginny's own feeling like they were on fire.

Ginny licked her lips as she shakily poured the firewhiskey into her own cup. Hermione handed her the lime-flavoured juice and Ginny poured in a bit of that, as well, hoping Hermione had known what she was doing when she'd grabbed it.

Conjuring a spoon, Ginny stirred her drink and handed the spoon to Harry to stir his own drink. As she took a sip, Ginny was pleasantly surprised by how tasty the drink was.

"This is great!" Ginny told them.

"I told you so," Hermione said. "My mum and dad always say that their favourite drink is a whiskey-sour. It takes away the harshest part from the whiskey."

"I'd say," Harry commented, smacking his lips together. "I'll be drinking more of these."

Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

"There are a lot of really good Muggle cocktails that I could introduce you both to," Hermione informed them.

Raising an eyebrow, Ginny said, "Hermione, I wouldn't have guessed you were such an experienced drinker, after what happened at our last beach day."

Hermione shrugged. "I haven't had a lot of my own drinks, but my parents always thought it was important for me to be informed and let me try theirs whenever we were on holiday."

Hermione then took a sip of her own drink and smiled. "Might be better with ice, but it's almost as good as it is with real sour juice."

Then, Hermione pulled her book out and flopped onto her belly on the blanket.

"Well, I guess that's that," Harry grinned. "Want to take a walk?" he asked Ginny.

She knew he meant to ask if she wanted to visit their cave, and part of her stubbornly wanted to refuse, just out of spite for their lack of communication. Most of her, however, was jumping at the chance to be alone with him again. "Sure," she finally answered.

He grinned at her rather lopsidedly, reminding her of Neville, strangely.

She shook off the image for a moment and grabbed her cup as she heaved herself up from the sand.

"We'll be back soon," Harry told Hermione.

She waved them off and Ginny giggled, shaking her head at their friend. "Oh, Hermione will never change," she said.

"We wouldn't want her any other way, though," Harry chuckled. As they got further from Hermione and Ginny's brothers, Harry took Ginny's hand in his.

His palm was warm around her own and Ginny replayed their moments in the cave the day before, vividly able to recall how his body had felt against hers and the way it had felt to wake up next to him after their post-coital nap.

As they approached their cave, just around the bend of the cliffs, Ginny stopped him and turned to face him.

"We really do need to talk," she told Harry.

Harry ran a hand through his already wind-whipped hair and nodded. "Yes, I think we'd better."

"Let's just sit here," Ginny gestured to the sand beneath them. Harry wordlessly began to sit next to her as she plopped herself down rather ungracefully.

They sat in silence for a few moments, taking sips of their firewhiskey mixtures and watching the waves roll in and drift towards them, tickling their toes before receding once again.

Finally, Ginny found it in herself to speak. "I know you told me last night that you wanting to do your own thing didn't mean you didn't want to commit to me," she started. "But I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

She tore her eyes away from the sea and met Harry's gaze, careful not to drown in his emerald eyes. She brought her hand to the side of his face and gently caressed Harry's cheek, smiling softly at him. "I've really enjoyed being able to spend time with you again this month."

"Me too," Harry agreed. "It feels like it all has to be a dream, I've been so happy."

"But we can't just live in a dream," Ginny told him, biting her lip. "As much as I would love to, the life and routine we've had here at Shell Cottage isn't our lives."

"I know," said Harry. "I wish it was."

"Me too."

She looked back out at the sea, listening to the cries of the seagulls.

"We can make something work," Harry told her. "While I'm working and you're at school."

"Will it be what we really want, keeping a relationship like that?" Ginny couldn't help but question.

Harry looked at her, eyes shining in a way she hadn't seen since Dumbledore's funeral. "I don't mind waiting for you, Gin."

"I don't mind waiting for you either, Harry. But I don't want you to have to sit around and not explore the world while I'm still stuck at school, studying."

Harry shook his head at her stubbornly. "It's not like I'm going to be dating other witches while you're at Hogwarts."

"I know that's not how you are," Ginny said. "But I think it would be good for you to not be attached to me while I'm away."

"Why?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, honestly," Ginny answered him. "It's not like I want to give you permission to carouse or anything. But I want you to have some time to find yourself while I'm away."

Harry pursed his lips and Ginny understood his trepidation.

"Let's make a deal," she told him.

He raised both his eyebrows at her, and she explained, "How about, when we're together, we're together, but while we're away, we don't have to stress about not hearing from each other, or what the other is up to?"

"What, like an arrangement?" Harry asked, aghast.

"Just while I'm at school," Ginny said. "If this feeling between us is still there at the end of the year, we'll make a real go of it, you know?"

Ginny hadn't thought it was possible for Harry's lips to press together anymore, but somehow they did. She watched him think on it for a while as they sat in silence.

"Is this what you want?" Harry finally asked her.

"I'm not sure if 'want' is necessarily the right word for it," she told him. "But I think it's what will be best for us."

"Alright," Harry agreed. "We can do that."

There was a disappointment in his eyes that Ginny wished she could charm away. She was feeling the same way, but she didn't want to chain him down as he found himself, despite what he'd told her. Besides, summer romances always fizzled away when school began, and it was probably better for it to be this way, she reasoned. Now, they wouldn't have to sit around waiting and waiting on letters that may never come.

"We're still together now, right?" Harry asked.

Nervously, Ginny nodded at him.

He leaned in towards her and placed a kiss on her lips, a strange mixture of passion and sadness intertwined in the kiss. Their lips found a familiar rhythm, and soon their hands began to wander again.

"We should stop," Harry said eventually, breath ragged

Ginny nodded, beginning to straighten her dress and hair. "Maybe we should get back?"

"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed.

As they walked back to the others, Ginny took several large gulps of her sour-firewhiskey drink, hoping that it would calm the raging swirl of emotions churning within her stomach.

They separated as soon as they were back with the others, Harry mounting his broom once again and joining Ron and George in the air. Ginny looked mournfully at the boys, not having the heart to fly. She went to take another gulp of her drink but found that it was empty.

 _Damn,_ she thought. She threw herself down on the blanket next to Hermione, who was still reading, and huffed. Hermione continued to read. Ginny rolled onto her back and gazed at the sky, blue and cloudless.

Soon, she thought, she'd be going back to Hogwarts. She'd made the right choice with Harry, hadn't she? She did make the right decision, she assured herself.

As she sat there, listening to the boys play around, the sound of Hermione turning a page, and the sound of the ocean waves, she knew that it had to have been right. Every decision she had made had been for good.

H&G

The week went by quickly, and soon it was August 31, Ginny's last day at Shell Cottage before she and Hermione would leave for Hogwarts. Bill and Fleur had invited their mum and dad for the day to spend time with them all before everyone returned to some semblance of normal life.

As Ginny woke up, she smelt something she hadn't smelled in a month: her mum's cooking. Ginny wasn't sure how she could tell the difference, but as she hopped out of bed, all she could think of was sinking her teeth into some bacon and drinking her mum's homemade pumpkin juice. The store-bought stuff that Bill and Fleur bought just did not cut it for her.

Throwing on her dressing gown, Ginny hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen, smoothing her hair a bit as she drew nearer. It didn't sound like everyone else had woken up yet, and she wondered if they were all having a lie-in.

The sound of the frying pan was loud to Ginny's ears as she entered the kitchen. The bacon was sizzling away in the same pan as the eggs her mum were frying up and there were potatoes being diced by a knife that her mum must have charmed to chop them.

"Morning, Mum," Ginny greeted.

"Oh Ginny-dear, good morning," her mum left the frying pan she'd been supervising to hug her daughter. "I can't believe my baby is going off to her last year of Hogwarts tomorrow!"

Ginny hugged her mum back, trying to breathe.

"I'm so glad you're not going to be like those brothers of yours, not finishing your schooling, dear. You know it's just so important to get your NEWTs to work for the Ministry."

Ginny didn't tell her mum that she most likely wouldn't be working for the Ministry of Magic, as she hated anything to do with being a cog. She wasn't cut out for it. Still, she kept silent as her mum released her from the hug and asked, "Can I help with anything?"

"You can take the pumpkin juice out of the icebox and fix yourself a glass," her mum suggested. "Everything else in under control."

Ginny nodded and smiled. "Where's Dad?"

"He and Bill are out in the garden, talking about something," her mum answered.

"Oh?"

Her mum waved her off, shaking her head. "They don't tell me anything when it's not in the house, dear."

She supposed that any time she and her siblings had spent with their dad outside or in the shed had always been classified as time not to be interrupted or asked about.

"Well what's on the agenda for today?" Ginny asked.

"After breakfast, we thought we'd all go into town and do some light shopping and then get ice cream. When we get back, Bill and your father are going to be grilling."

"Sounds like a great day," said Ginny, thinking of how she wouldn't get to enjoy much time with Harry before she left the next day. She'd wanted to savour as much time as she could with him…

Soon, breakfast was served up, and as if by some instinct borne into them, Weasleys began pouring into the kitchen.

Ginny took it upon herself to make a plate for herself before all the food got taken and took a seat at the table. As she dug into the bacon, Harry sat in the open chair to her right and gave her a small, sly smile.

"Good morning, Ginny," he said quietly.

"Morning, Harry," she replied. She shot him a look, hoping he could see exactly what she was thinking.

He gave her a blank look.

 _Damn it, Harry_ , Ginny cursed silently. _Dense man._ She shook her head at him, giving up, and finished eating the slice of bacon in her hand.

She moaned around the meat in her mouth loudly and could sense Harry tensing next to her.

She moaned again and turned to raise an eyebrow at him. "What? This is delifious bacon."

"Ginny, mind your manners," her mother chastised.

Ginny grinned at her mum around her mouthful of food and continued to eat, shrugging. When she'd swallowed the mouthful, she apologized—but she didn't really mean it.

Ginny Weasley had other things on her mind today.

Like getting Harry Potter alone for a bit.

She'd have to plan extremely carefully.

After everyone was done with their breakfasts and Ginny and Hermione had helped clean up the dishes, they all got ready for their day ahead.

"I'd like to buy something special for you, Ginny, dear, while we're in town," her mother told her when her siblings and Hermione had departed up the stairs. She could see Harry lingering about rather awkwardly on the outskirts of her periphery.

"You don't have to do that, Mum," Ginny said.

"We want to, your father and me. As a going-away gift."

"But you already got me that beautiful watch," she argued. "That had to have cost a fortune."

"Ginny, it's our money to do with what we'd like," her mum told her. "And that's that. So, let us know if there's something in town that you particularly like."

Ginny smiled at her mum, knowing that they had always done their best to make ends meet and spoil them as children. "Alright, Mum. Thank you."

"You're such a good girl, Ginny," her mum told her, cupping her cheek. "I'm so proud of the woman you're becoming."

Ginny blushed lightly, grinning in both embarrassment and pride. "Thanks, Mum."

Her mum pulled her into another big hug, nearly squeezing the life out of her before she let her go. "I'll be back down in a few minutes!" Ginny smiled at her mum.

As she rounded the corner out of the kitchen and into the hallway, she was pulled into a cupboard. Heart seizing, she began to fight until she smelled wood shavings and chocolate.

"Harry?" she asked.

"It's me, Gin. I've just needed to kiss you since I saw you this morning," Harry whispered.

Ginny smiled, relaxing into Harry's arms in the darkness of the cupboard. "Well, are you going to?" she asked.

"You don't have to ask me twice," he whispered. He pulled her body against his and took her lips with his own. Ginny melted against him, wrapping her arms up and around his shoulders, placing one hand on the back of Harry's head, twining her fingers into his messy hair as she pulled him closer to her.

Her other hand soon found Harry's bum, giving it a squeeze and walking them further into the cupboard. He moaned against her mouth, and she pulled back slightly to gently bite his lower lip.

"Gin," Harry groaned.

"Should we do a silencing charm?" she asked hoarsely.

She could feel Harry nodding in the dark.

She muttered the spell as quietly as she could and then their bodies moved back together as if they were magnets.

"Merlin, Gin, I love the way you kiss me."

Ginny smiled. "I love the way you kiss me, too, Harry." She pushed him down onto a crate and straddled his lap.

She discovered he was already hard in his trousers as she sat on his lap, lips on Harry's neck.

Ginny couldn't help but rub against his erection. She groaned at the feeling he elicited within her.

"Oh, Harry," she said breathlessly.

"Please, Gin?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry. Please."

They made quick work of Harry's trousers and Ginny's pajama shorts. They joined much more quickly than they had the only other time they'd done it, Ginny's core wet and aching for Harry. They both moaned when Harry was fully inside her.

Ginny began to move up and down on his cock, hoping she was doing it right. She must have been, she decided, as it felt so good and Harry seemed to be liking it.

When they'd finished, they each performed freshening spells on each other, and Ginny tried to straighten out her mussed hair.

"Stay back," she told him quietly. "I'll make sure no one's about when we come out."

Harry agreed and Ginny cautiously opened the cupboard door, peering about. She heard someone puttering about in the kitchen still, but other than that, everything was deserted.

"Coast is clear," she whispered to Harry, motioning him on.

She peered about once more before they left the cupboard and hurried up the stairs to their respective rooms. Ginny quickly got ready and charmed her hair to glossy perfection.

"Now you don't look so freshly shagged," Hermione told her, eyes meeting Ginny's from just above her book.

"Oh, shut it, you," Ginny laughed, throwing a pair of socks at Hermione.

Hermione batted them away with her book, laughing.

The day passed by as they went to town and had ice cream and dinner with her family. Ginny tried to drink it all in, knowing it would be the last day that could ever be like this again. Her last day of childhood, if it could truly be called that. She'd lost her innocence long before she and Harry had lost their virginities to each other in their cave the week before. Still, it would probably be the last time she could act like a child at home.

She laughed heartily as much as she could, soaking in the happiness on her parents' faces.

As her parents left late that night—later than was probably good for any of them with the days they had coming—she thanked them again.

"I'm not sure I've ever told you," Ginny confessed to her mum and dad. "But I'm so glad to have had you as parents. You were the best parents I could have asked for."

Ginny's dad's eyes were shining suspiciously, and her mum was outright crying.

"I love you both," Ginny told them.

"We love you too, Ginny-girl," her dad said. "You do your best at school."

"I will. I'll see you at Christmas," she promised.

They nodded, blowing kisses as they Disapparated into the night.

Ginny went to bed fairly soon after they left and awoke the next morning, excitement and dread filling her all at the same time. She hated to leave Harry behind, but knew that this was something she had to do… not just for him, she realized for the first time, but for herself, as well.


End file.
